Converging Souls
by Ronin Drake
Summary: What drives us on our journies? A demon seeks power, a knight looks for redemption, a woman hopes for peace, and a young man desires vengeance. Watch as these souls entwine to decide the course of history. OC centric. Please read & review.
1. Soul of Destruction

_Start-up Notes: Hello to all you potential fans and critics out there. This is my first story here and has been taking up quite a bit of my time as of late. I take it as an odd work of fan fiction in that the focus of the story will not be on characters from the game, but characters that I've created (I'd say original, but what is original these days?). If this upsets some of you, don't worry. If I've got my math right, then there are as many cameos from established characters as there are chapters (12). This first chapter is going to introduce the situation that the plot will center around for half the story and eventually finalize upon. No heroes will be appearing in this chapter. My idea is to switch between their perspective and the villain's with each chapter up until the finale (Easy version: Bad Guy odd chapters, Good Guys even chapters.). Well, anyway, I've already talked far too much and I haven't even gotten to the disclaimer. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing of the situations, characters, or legends stemming from the Soul Calibur universe. All I own are the characters I've created and the story that they find themselves in. I merely borrow the Soul Calibur universe for them to play in.

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**Chapter 1: Soul of Destruction**

In an age long past, demons made their way into this world. It had taken all of history up to this point, but a cavernous portal from their realm to ours appeared in the middle of a clearing on a mountainside. This dark hole in the ground spewed forth a legion of foul winged creatures bent on destruction in the name of their realm.

And they would have destroyed much were it not for a quick alliance of nearby kingdoms. As the demonic menace came into their lands (traveling only by night, for they were lesser demons that would perish in sunlight) the kings gathered their greatest warriors and collected as many powerful mages as they could before sending them out in an offensive against the portal in the mountainside. Their battle raged for several days and nights and when the dust had settled only 3 dozen soldiers remained out of the many scores that had been deployed. However, in spite of their heavy losses, they had managed to bring 22 mages to the hellish opening, and better still… they had arrived in daylight.

These great wizards began their work of sealing the gateway as quickly as possible, for while they knew that demons such as they had seen till now could not hope to stop them in the sunlight, they were not so naïve as to believe that there were no dark forces that could survive the rays. In fact, even as the mages struggled with their task, a contingent of such demons made their way through the portal. Though powerful, however, these demons were without wings and forced to climb their way up the cavern. As slow a process as this was, the seal would still need time to be complete. The fate of the world would be decided in this race.

The seal was almost finished, but all could see the many fiery eyes making their way up the shaft. One pair of eyes had almost made it into the sun as the last of the incantations were recited and a column of light erupted from what was once the path to hell. When the light faded and all had removed their hands from their eyes, they could see the thick strands of magic thread that had woven itself across the dark hole to form a seal.

They had done it. With this victory, the people, one and all, could sleep easier. The only flaw in their triumph was that the demon that had almost gotten to the mages had managed to get a single clenched fist between the threads at the seal's edge before it set. As much as this worried the warriors and wizards, their fears were placated on closer inspection. As they looked down the shaft, they could see that the protruding demon, along with the others below him, had been frozen in their positions as the seal had finished. While this relieved most, one soldier still thought it prudent to stab at the offending hand with the short blade at his waist. When it gave no reaction, he seemed pleased. They buried the seal as deep as they could and made their way back home.

After the victors had left, a clawed red hand began to stir beneath the soil.

Despite what had happened, despite the prison of the seal, despite being frozen… he was still lucid. He heard the ones who had placed the seal cry out in victory. He saw the soldiers peer down the shaft at their prisoners. He even felt the blade stab into his protruding hand. More than feel it, he had forced himself to not react. And while it had hurt, it would have been nothing compared to the complete removal of the hand… and he could take some solace in the fact that the power in his demonic blood would curse the warrior's blade.

His ability to see was made null as the seal was covered up. Without his sight, he relied on the sound of footsteps and vibrations in the soil to tell him of their presence. And when he was certain they were gone, he began his work of trying to free himself. Moving the earth around with his only free appendage, he eventually got his fingers onto the seal. It seemed that while the threads formed most of the highest layer, the space between had been solidified in crystal.

Knowing the method of his entrapment put him closer to his escape. Focusing all of his will, the demon tried to create a force of energy to shatter his confines. However, the only place he could focus any of his power was in his free hand outside the seal. It seemed that his prison also dampened magical abilities. Cursing the increasing direness of his situation, he sought out what he was capable of under this new stipulation.

Keeping his clawed fingers against the glass-like crystal, he focused as much power as he could channel into his hand and pressed his claws against the prison. The energy discharge produced a light for him to view the act. It was a brief flash, but it was light nonetheless. Moving his claw tips over his strike points, he was dismayed to find only a small scratch in the crystal. It had taken every bit of energy he could muster and it would be a while before he could refocus himself and gather energy again. All hope was almost lost.

But still… even a single scratch proved that it was not unbreakable.

It was a long cycle: building up the energy in his left hand, turning that energy against the seal, and then waiting until he could summon that strength of will again. Each discharge allowed him to view his slow progress, and every new scratch gave him another reason to continue.

This ever repeating process allowed a great passage of time. Just how much time, the demon couldn't say with nothing to help him gauge it. However, during this time the earth above him piled higher, many animals came and went, and eventually a village was erected over this once unholy site. The demon could sense these creatures… and he used them to his advantage.

Whenever something made its way over the seal, the demon did his best to steal away their evil energies, hastening his escape. Before the village had arrived, there were only animals with minimal amounts of evil to offer. Regardless, they played their part and by the time the village had arrived he had entirely freed his left arm and shoulder and had begun to free his head.

With the presence of humans, he was able to draw into himself much more evil from their hearts and his efforts reached a new speed. He was able to strike at his prison with more power, break more crystal, and recover faster from his struggles. With no more concept of the passage of time, he could not tell how much longer he would be imprisoned. The only thing he did know was that he would soon be free.

Though his head had been free for many years, the demon had refrained from crying out so as not to frighten away those who were unwittingly augmenting his power. Once he had completely removed himself from his crystal cage, however, he could not help but release a primal roar that shot up into the earthen ground above and caused the entire village to stop in their tracks. And with that he began to claw his way to the surface.

The ground rumbled as he brought himself up, and as he neared the surface he began to hear the terrified screams of those in the village. Those screams gave him a source of energy he had not had in far too long a time. It was not the evil he used to power his strikes. It was the bloodlust that had been coursing through his veins back when he had hoped to stop the creation of the seal and slay the warriors who had fought their way to that location. This thirst for blood and need for vengeance were the last things to go through the demon's mind as he broke the earth's surface and his form was finally revealed to the sunlight.

Making its way out of the ground, the creature stood at just over 6½ feet tall, towering over most of the villagers by almost a foot. Only the arms and head of its red skin could be seen. A burst of energy shot the lingering crystals off his spiked, black armor, which covered every other portion of his body. Above the fire-orange eyes that were inspecting the fearful crowd there was no hair, but instead a crown of horns. On his back was an obsidian scythe, almost as tall as him and with a 2-foot blade of shining steel.

The village was obviously in a panic and many seemed paralyzed with fear. However, it seemed strange that no one was trying to escape. A quick look around explained why. The clearing the town was based on was an area of flat land on the side of a mountain and the people had built a high wall extending from the mountainside to surround themselves. In his ascension from the earth, the demon had come up very close to the only gate in the wall. It looked like almost every member of the village could be found in the crowd before him and the few screams from outside the walls proved this to be the case. From what he could tell, less than a dozen had escaped the village before he had risen.

The demon took a few steps toward the crowd before a rustling noise to his left caught his attention. A young man was trying to rush for the gate by following the wall. Clawed hands took hold of the large scythe and tossed it into the wall, just in front of the one trying to escape. With the teen startled and fallen to his back, the obsidian armored destroyer made his way to the wall and returned his weapon to its resting place. His fiery eyes burned into the attempted escapist as he clutched his victim by the throat, raised him up to eye level, and resumed his path to the other villagers.

With claws pressing into his neck and suspending him in air, the young man managed to sputter the words, "W-what are you?" Before answering, the red-skinned demon tossed him in the direction of the crowd. He flew through the air and landed several feet from the crowd before rolling the rest of the way.

The demon widened his stance and extended his arms, facing his palms toward the houses on either side. Runes appeared and began to glow all over the arms as a fiery energy formed in each palm. With a deep, dark, ethereal voice he answered the question posed. "I am the demon warrior, Razath, and all here shall suffer for my long imprisonment!" As he finished this declaration, the energy shot from his hands, destroying everything up to the walls on either side and creating his own impenetrable wall of flame, ensuring that his victims would not escape. The only thing that came from this voice after that were wild cackles as he proceeded to slaughter the villagers….

It was 3 days before his bloodlust and thirst for destruction were satiated.

Standing in the ashes of the once peaceful village, Razath relished in the destruction he had caused, but soon turned his attention to the matter at hand. Using whatever powers he could, he began the process of unearthing the seal. A week had passed before he had finally revealed the great work of magic that had saved this realm. It had been hiding almost 30 feet beneath several of the houses. The crystal seemed to expand endlessly into the darkness of the earth and the only flaw in it to be found was the broken edge he had escaped from.

Razath gazed deep into the demon pit below and considered his options. Since those who accompanied him had made no progress, and based on his own experience within the seal, it would seem that they were helpless. Since the seal had not been destroyed from the underworld up, it would seem that the seal could only be destroyed from this side. Even with full use of his power, it would still take several centuries to break out a single ally, and he had run out of patience in his own escape. If he wanted to reopen this portal to the nether realm, he would need a great source of evil to augment his power.

Determined to at least see the extent of what he could do to help his realm, Razath made his way out of the hole and climbed beyond the ashen remains of the village, up to the mountain's peak. Once there, he scanned the lands around him before closing his eyes and sniffing the air for an evil that might aid him. He quickly caught the scent of something familiar. Since its power had been weakened severely and the item itself had been broken and scattered across the lands, it wasn't instantly recognizable… but he soon knew what it was. It was an embodiment of evil itself, spawned from the creation of the netherrealm and much older than Razath, himself. It was known by many names, but the legend of its power was a certainty. Collecting and reforming it would take time to do discreetly, but obtaining such a powerful force of evil would be worth it.

And so Razath set forth on his quest for the "demon blade"… Soul Edge.

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_After Notes: Yeah, no real connection to the SC world until the very end there (or so it would seem). You'll be seeing the demon again in Ch. 3. Until then you're going to have to sit through your first meeting with our heroes when I get around to posting Ch. 2. Oh, I should probably mention that I do have 4-5 chapters written and typed, but I'm going to wait until after I've gotten them reviewed and edited by some friends and family. Let me know how I did so far in your review._


	2. Soul of Courage

_Author's Notes: Back for chapter 2. This one will give us our first glimpse of our heroes and show us a connection to the Soul Calibur universe. And by that I mean that we will have a guest appearance by one of the game's fighters. I don't mention his name, but you should be able to figure it out. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur or its characters. I only (kinda-sorta) own the characters of my own creation and the situation they are in.

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**Chapter 2: Soul of Courage**

7 years after the events of the destroyed village….

A young woman walked along a path. She wore chain mail under a sleeveless black gi. Her black pants tucked into the wrappings of her boots. Fingerless gloves cover most of her wrist with a large purple trim while her fingers keep close to the kunais placed in her purple waistband. Though some of her short hair is kept out of her face, much of it falls down her forehead and covers her almost glowing violet eyes. A cloth choker holds an amulet with a purple gem to her neck.

On one side of the path is a forest while the other side houses a great plain that fades off into the distant mountains. The trail itself stands as a dividing line between them and leads to the crossroads that connect to the major roads all across the land. From that junction, you could make your way to anywhere on the continent. The woman knows exactly where she must go, but as she nears the multitude of forks in the road, the trees rumble and a voice booms out of the forest,

"You're not going anywhere!" Soon a large human-like creature lumbered out from between the trees dragging a massive ax behind him. Its red skin matched by the orange fire of both its eyes and, seemingly, within the scars formed on its body, most notably the large half-circle scar across its chest and a starburst dot in his forehead. Its voice bellowed out of a leather face guard, with the mouth loosely stitched shut, that covered the lower half of his head and most of his shoulders.

"Ares has found out about your plan, worm, and he sent me to make sure that it never happens." The monster arched the ax above his head and brought it into both his hands with a few steps forward. "And to do that, I'm gonna have to take that little gem of yours…" The woman clutched at the item at her throat with one hand and brought out one of her weapons at this pause. Meanwhile, the creature planted the staff of his mammoth weapon into the ground and continued, "… right after I tear you apart!"

At this the woman steeled herself and held both her kunais ready for battle. If she were to have any hope of completing her quest she would need to survive the attack of this puppet created to do the bidding of someone named Ares. Whoever that was, she couldn't let him stop her, for the very reason she was on her quest was to keep such power out of the hands of those who would use it to continue the endless war. With that thought in mind, her resolve was strengthened. In a low, gritty voice she taunted the ax-wielding beast before her as he began to charge. "You're quite a disgusting sight to behold."

The difference in styles was incredible. While the woman used her agility well to give quick kicks and slashes to her enemy, she offered little in the way of power and didn't seem to be phasing the creation at all. Meanwhile, the red giant, easily 3 times the size of his opponent, was swinging his ax around wildly and hardly seemed to notice the damage he was taking. He hadn't yet hit the woman, but all he needed was one good hit to take her down.

A powerful vertical strike sent the monster's ax crashing into the ground. Its target managed to avoid the attack but now jumped onto the pole of the massive weapon. Using it as a platform, she leapt up and over the red-skinned creature and buried her two small blades deep into its shoulder, eliciting the first painful reaction to her attacks.

As she hung on the monster's back, still clinging to her kunais and the monster writhed in pain, one of her feet slipped and came out under a bulky arm. Taking advantage of this, a monstrous hand wrapped around the foot and pulled it forward. The woman held fast to her weapons and as she was being pulled her kunais were wrenched out of the creature's shoulder, causing another scream of pain.

The monster only held her upside-down for a few seconds before swinging her into the crossroad signpost, cracking and splintering it in the process, and tossing her down the path. She rolled and tumbled down the way, losing her kunais in the process, only stopping after several dozen feet. This left her battered and bruised and she didn't know if she could stand again. Meanwhile, the monster was coming closer, intent on finishing the job.

As the beast stepped over her lost weapons and the woman began to think the end was near, she also thought of everything in her life that had led to this gruesome death.

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Her name was Tairene. 

She had wanted to protect her home, and her home was the Kingdom of Ursprung. Ever since the king had taken his throne there had been many wars to expand his empire. And during these wars the people had seen many terrible things. Tairene wanted to protect these people and make sure they never had to be witnesses such atrocities again. Unfortunately, the only people the king allowed close to him were the higher ranking members of his military. In order to provoke a change she would have to be in the very army that was committing the crimes she hoped to stop. Aside from not wanting to partake in these activities, the king was quite intent on keeping the women of his kingdom within their diminutive roles. He had been known to be hostile to dissenters from his ideals and this was likely no different.

Nonetheless, she was driven in her goal and would not allow anything to stop her. Dressing up as a boy and claiming to be an orphan of the wars, she managed to get recruited into the king's forces. While with the other soldiers she was taught basic combat strategies, instructed on how to use various weapons and put through intense physical training. She learned a lot about the ways of combat during this time. Though she could not hope to keep up with the strength of the men around her, she proved incredibly agile and managed to outdo many of her fellow soldiers through acts of speed and craftiness. Her plan to quietly climb the ranks until she reached a certain level of authority seemed well on its way. The situation changed, however, as after a year in disguise she was discovered to be a woman.

At another time this could have meant death for the young woman, but as it turned out the king himself had been seeking to change the way his wars were fought and had taken an interest in a class of warriors from an island far to the east. These "ninjas," as they were called, used methods of stealth and secrecy to perform covert tasks ranging from retrieving important documents to assassination. Intrigued by the potential of having such warriors under his command, the king hired a master of these arts from the far-off land so that he might train a number of soldiers in his ways.

Now the girl, who had remained in disguise for so long and was amazingly agile, seemed perfectly suited for this. She was brought into this new corps along with several soldiers who had volunteered. Before they began their training, they were told that they would be in charge of "information retrieval" and "alternative diplomacy."

Tai could see right through that title. What they would be doing was stealing information on their enemy's weaknesses and quietly killing people who posed a threat to the king's plans. This was not how she had hoped to protect the people from the ravages of war, but she could, at the very least, help to end the wars before they truly started. Then none of the families she had grown up with would have to see the terrible things that happened. This would have to be how she helped the change. At the very least, that was how she could justify it.

Each of the soldiers was given a gi, an outfit worn by fighters from the land the ninja master hailed from. Once the training had started, Tai and the others of the company were introduced to new forms of weaponry, they were taught how to fight unarmed in the styles of the east, and they were shown secret techniques that could only be performed by masters of the craft.

Tairene excelled in this new system. She was well-adapted to the light weaponry of the ninja and quickly took to the martial arts lessons. Though she still could not perform the techniques the master had shown them, she still far exceeded the skills of those around her. Eventually, the master took notice of this and singled her out amongst the others for private training.

The master was able to improve her abilities all around. They would spar with and without weapons, sometimes with one having an advantage. He worked with her on the magic of ninjutsu until she could perform all but one of his special techniques, everything from disappearing into the shadows to materializing behind a victim in the blink of an eye. The one she could not master was incredibly powerful and required intense focus. Despite this small caveat in her credentials, Tairene was well on her way to becoming a master in her own right.

Meanwhile, outside the life of training, the duties of these new warriors were very much as Tai had imagined them to be. Often terrible things were being done, but she was able to take some solace in that the people no longer had to see them. The king was able to expand his territory and the villages no longer had to be witness to slaughter. Though she had, in some sense, been able to accomplish her goal, she took no _joy_ from it. She wanted to stop the endless killing, not just hide it from view.

The only thing she actually enjoyed about her position was the time she got to spend with her master. That all came to an end, however, as on one fateful day, warriors meant for stealth and intelligence were called to guard the king…

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Remembering all she had learned, Tai realized there might be a chance to save herself. She couldn't guarantee it would work or that it would stop the monster she faced, but she had no other option besides laying there and waiting to die. 

Pushing herself up to her knees, she began the process of building up the necessary energy. The creature was almost on her location and she needed results now. Focusing as best she could, the energy formed in her hands. But as quickly as the energy came, it dissipated. Mastery over the technique still eluded her and her concentration had been too difficult with the pain in her ribs. She had failed at the most critical of moments and could only sit there as the ultimate penalty edged closer.

Now the monster stopped just a few feet from her, laughing at the futility of her actions before raising his ax up and holding it vertically over his head, ready to finish the girl. With her only chance at saving herself gone, Tai closed her eyes and waited for the ax to fall.

Before she could receive her fate, however, the giant let out a painful cry and let the weight of his ax drag his arms to the side. Tairene opened her eyes to see the monster turning around, a large, 4-pointed shuriken sticking out of his back. After a few seconds the shuriken disappeared. In the distance, two warriors approached: one in green cloth wielding an eastern blade and the shuriken she'd just seen and the other clad in a suit of purple armor wielding a great sword. Tai saw no more than this as the exhaustion of her battle and injuries caught up with her and she passed out.

Meanwhile, the monster swung his ax around, trying to keep the newcomers at bay. But every motion was pained, as the nicks and cuts the girl had given him had done more damage than he'd let on. He wouldn't be able to take much from these new warriors.

The one in green was zooming around the creature and slicing where he could, much the same way as the girl had done, but with more range due to the length of his blade. The violet knight was doling out powerful strikes with his colossal sword, forcing the giant to use most of his energy defending against it.

The green-clad warrior found himself behind the red monster as it was distracted by his companion. Taking the shuriken from off his back where he kept it, he held it beside his sword. He ran forward and dove between the creature's legs, slashing at the sides of both. Roaring in pain, the monster fell to his back. The knight took his cue and stepped over his cohort and onto the giant's chest before driving his sword into the half-circle scar. A terrible cry erupted from its mouth and echoed across the plain.

As the giant finally faded into death and the blade was removed from his body, the victors allowed themselves to relax. This was short-lived, however, as the ground began to shift beneath their feet. A crack formed in the dirt and expanded throughout the battlefield, before settling on and encircling the ax-wielding corpse. Soon after, the earth began to take the monster into its depths. Whoever this master Ares was, it would seem that he was taking his servant back in his failure.

Once the shaking had stopped and the fallen creature had been completely swallowed by the earth, the two men went to check on the woman they had saved. They found her unconscious where the giant had left her. After carrying the woman and her lost weapons to the side of the road, the warriors started a fire and prepared for the soon approaching night.

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_After Thoughts: So what did ya think? Good, bad, anything? We have the name of one hero and we'll find out the other two when we check back. Between now and then, however, we're gonna get back to Razath and see his first major battle in the quest for Soul Edge. I'll try to get that chapter up by the end of New Year's Day, and you can probably hold me to that. Toodles for now._


	3. Soul of the Mask

_Author's notes: Well, I'm back and ready to reintroduce the villain of our story, Razath, the demon warrior. This time we're gonna have a fully fledged battle sequence taking up most of the chapter... Isn't that exciting? Well I hope it is, cause I'm wanting to hear what you folks out there think about it. Oh, and this marks the first cameo appearance where I explicitly state their name... In fact, you've probably already guessed who it is just by looking at the chapter title. No matter, let us simply continue on with our tale... right after a word from our lawyers. Um, I mean sponsors._

_Disclaimer: This author does not own Soul Calibur or any of the characters created by Namco. The most he owns, and tentatively at that, are the characters of his own creation and the adventure they find themselves in._

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**Chapter 3: Soul of the Mask**

4 years earlier

On an island hidden in the Mediterranean, a warrior descended into the darkness. This was the place where Vercci, known as the "Merchant of Death", had built his lavish tomb. This was also the place where he had deposited the immense fortune he had acquired in life, causing the tomb to be called "The Money Pit." Though the warrior who found himself here was a thief, he had not come for gold.

Years ago, his sword had been tainted by the evil of Soul Edge and he began a quest of trying to purify it. One night, he had grown careless and the sword was stolen from him as he slept. He tracked and followed the bandit until he found this island. There didn't seem to be anyone here, but he did manage to find his sword within the gold vault. Reunited with his blade at last he chose to name it, and he chose the same name given to himself, Yoshimitsu.

The sword was on an altar set apart from the many piles of gold. Beside it were several shards of odd metal fragments. As he picked one up, he noticed that it had the same evil energy as his sword. These had to be fragments of Soul Edge, the very sword that had cursed his blade. If there was evil such as this in the world, he had to do everything in his power to get rid of it. He gathered up the pieces and put them in a bag at his waist.

Now Yoshimitsu picked up his blade and caught the reflection in its side. He saw his green attire fitted over wrappings set over his entire body. He saw the Japanese oni mask covering his face, one of three he wore around his head. The other two consisted of a mask of death and a mask of an innocent woman. Behind him a staff rose up from his belt, carrying a flag depicting a Japanese sunset.

But it was not his own reflection that had caught his attention. Standing at the vault door was a red-skinned demon wearing ebony armor and carrying a massive scythe on its back.

Yoshimitsu turned to face the demon as the blade pulsed in his hand at the presence of this new evil. Preparing to defend himself, he called out to the fiend before him. "Foul creature, what is it that you seek here?"

Razath hardly moved, staring coldly at the masked warrior. "The one buried amidst all this gold was known to have searched extensively for the blade, Soul Edge, during his life. I now seek the same sword and believe there may be clues to its location or shards of the sword itself…" He paused and inhaled through his nose. "Shards like the ones you carry with you now."

Yoshimitsu resisted the urge to grab for the bag at his waist. Beneath his mask he donned a fierce scowl. "I cannot allow you to take these shards. Nor can I allow you to continue your quest for Soul Edge. Such power can never be permitted to enter the hands of such a hellion." Yoshimitsu took his battle stance and offered a few more words to the evil presence. "Prepare to be banished from this realm, demon!"

Before Razath could take the scythe from off his back the masked warrior closed the distance between them with an incredible dive, his hands hitting the ground several feet from where he stood. He then managed to shift his weight and bounce off his hands, rocketing a kick into the demon's chest.

Razath fell back, landing on his weapon in a pile of gold coins. He had not expected such agility from this one. His thoughts were interrupted as his opponent leapt into the air and brought his feet down on the fiend's chest yet again. The man stepped off the armor and before anymore damage could be done, Razath rolled onto his feet and brought his scythe into his hands. While he prepared for another acrobatic feat, the masked warrior's next action could not have been predicted.

Holding the katana in his right hand, the man raised it over his head. Razath then watched, perplexed, as the hand wielding the blade began to spin furiously, independent of the arm it was attached to. After a second or two, he began to rise up off the ground until he had almost reached the ceiling.

As Yoshimitsu hovered at this height, he maneuvered himself closer to the confused demon. When he was almost directly over the armored hell spawn, his blade stopped and Yoshimitsu fell with a strike that could have cut through stone. Unfortunately, all it met with was the stone in the floor of the vault, embedding itself within the crack it had created.

Though Razath could not explain how the man was capable of such a technique, he was not so dumbfounded as to not see the attack coming. He stepped aside just as his opponent began to fall.

Before he could take advantage of the crouched adversary in front of him, however, the man twisted, catching the flag on his back in the demon's midsection. Razath doubled over at this unexpected strike and the masked warrior quickly rose, lifting the demon up and tossing him behind. As Razath lay sprawled across the floor, Yoshimitsu took this time to free his blade from the crack.

The fiend rose with fury burning in his eyes. When the masked one freed his sword and turned to face his enemy Razath pointed to him and cried, "You wear the mask of a demon, but you know nothing of one's wrath!"

Razath swung his scythe around madly trying to kill the man. Yoshimitsu managed to block or evade all of these attacks, waiting for a chance to strike. He found it after the demon had performed a wide swing. Pushing him back with a kick to the midsection, he held his blade behind him and collected his strength for a powerful vertical swing.

His slash, yet again, missed its target as Razath gathered his wits in time to sidestep the blow. And now the demon pressed his advantage.

Grabbing the wooden staff of the flag with his right hand, Razath kicked his opponent away, wrenching the flag from his back in the process. As the masked warrior regained his footing, the demon smashed the flag under his foot and tossed it away.

Having lost a portion of his arsenal, Yoshimitsu would have to be careful about how he chose to proceed from now on. His best chance of survival was to use his strange techniques and keep the fiend off guard. With this in mind, he began to spin on his heels, sword hand held out to strike with a back hand, all the while inching closer with this mysterious movement.

Razath raised his weapon to block the strike, but just before the masked one hit, he lowered his stance and turned his cut with his spin. Yoshimitsu spun several more times, slashing at the demon's protected stomach, before falling to the ground in dizziness.

Surprised by the attack, but for the most part undamaged, Razath turned to his dizzied enemy. Stepping on the blade held loosely in the fallen man's hand, he held it to the ground. At this, Yoshimitsu's mind cleared, but only in time to be kicked across the room by the demon's other foot, leaving his sword behind.

Razath picked the blade up off the ground and threw it away from the masked warrior, toward the vault door where it clattered and clanged as it left the room. Turning back to the victim of his systematic assault, the demon closed in to go for the kill. Yoshimitsu still had the will to fight, however, and still held hop of victory in this encounter.

Springing to his feet, the masked warrior did his best to put forth an offensive without his weapon, but his attacks were either blocked by the scythe or just seemed to have no effect through the onyx armor, the demon laughing at his wasted efforts all the while.

When Yoshimitsu had just about run out of energy, Razath swept the ground with his scythe, knocking him to the floor. Another attempt to fight off the fiend had failed and his spirit was breaking. He offered no resistance as the demon brought him to his feet.

Standing behind his helpless opponent, Razath brought the staff of his weapon around his victim's throat and pulled him closer. He then ripped the bag containing the evil shards from the man's waist and tossed it to the floor. Delighted at the state of things, the demon now whispered taunting words into the ears hidden behind the extra masks. "The fires of Hell will welcome you, warrior…" He paused now and grabbed the wrist of the man's sword arm. "But first… you're going…. TO SUFFER!"

Bellowing this last part, Razath pushed the masked warrior away, still holding onto his sword arm. As the man stumbled forward and his arm extended, the demon raised his scythe before sending its blade crashing down through the elbow and shattering the arm entirely.

Before Razath could relish in the pain of his victim, he noticed something strange about the situation. Rather than blood and bone, it was wooden gears that spilled across the floor from his wound. The man's arm had been mechanical. Razath stared in confusion. "What madness is this?"

Yoshimitsu stood as best he could and clutched the shoulder that had once held his real arm. "Though you stand poised to kill me, hellion, this will not be the first time I have been defeated in combat." Speaking these words brought him back to the night he had received the injury… the night his clan had been slaughtered by a deceitful king. Yoshimitsu brought his vision up and stared with cold fury through his demonic visage at the one who planned to kill him. "Know this, foul creature. Even if you were to strike me down with ten-fold your power… you shall never equal the pain I felt before I truly lost my arm."

Over his confusion at the mechanical arm and furious at these last words, Razath roared at the masked one before him. "I'll test that claim!" He now swung his scythe around and caught his amputated opponent beneath his remaining arm. Continuing the momentum of the swing, Razath bought him up and tossed him through the air.

Yoshimitsu burst through the vault door and landed a few feet from the top of the stone steps descending to an edge overlooking the water at the bottom of the Money Pit. He was in a great deal of pain and could see no other option than to wait for the demon to kill him when he saw something laying a few inches from his hand. It was the sword he had traveled so far to retrieve. He could hardly move and his chances of surviving were slim at best… but if he could use his weapon with the right timing, he might be able to take the demon with him.

As Razath now made his way out of the vault, he left his scythe by the door, wanting to feel this man's blood course through his fingers as the life drained from him. He could see the masked one face down by the stairs, half-curled into a ball.

The demon stood beside the heap of the man who was already half-dead. Reaching down, he picked him up by the back of the neck and lifted him until his waist was at his shoulders. Now he began to charge the energies in his other hand, ready to thrust it into the man's torso. Before he could perform this act and finish him off, however, he heard a single word rasped through the demon mask he could not see.

"Se…ppu…kku…"

At this, the man's blade erupted from his own back and dug into the demon's throat. He had driven his sword through himself for a chance to slay the armored heathen.

Razath dropped the warrior and clutched the wound in his neck. He had been cut deeply and cleanly across the side, and he would need to take care of it quickly if he wished to continue his journey.

Meanwhile, Yoshimitsu was tumbling down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, his mask collided with the edge and a loud crack sounded through the air before he plunged into the cold water below.

The demon raced to the edge, still clutching his throat and intent on making sure the warrior was dead. Looking into the depths, he could see the broken oni mask floating in several pieces. A few seconds later the mask of death rose to the surface. Content that the man was dead, Razath collected his scythe and the bag of shards from the vault before leaving and going off to heal.

Several hours later and unbeknownst to the demon, a one-armed man wearing the mask of an innocent made his way out of the pit and onto the island shore where his strength finally left him. It was here that he was found and rescued by a group of thieves that had intended to raid the Money Pit. These were those that went on to found the Manjitou.**

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_Author's Notes: And so we end yet another chapter. Razath has had his first bout of success in his search for Soul Edge, drawing blood in the process, but losing some of his own. Yoshimitsu lives, but only by the skin of his neck, which we have never seen (or any of his skin for that matter). In the next chapter, we will go back to Tai and meet her saviors. Just who were those mystery men. Find out in chapter 4. Oh, and before you do that, leave a review. It makes my work better, and improves what I submit in the future, which is good for all you readers out there. See you soon!_


	4. Soul of Memory

_Author's Notes: I'm back for more and I'm ready for anything you critics out there can dish out. (a bit overdramatic... I thought so) Anyway, we return to the girl, and meet those who saved her life. Just who are these wanderers capable of fighting off as fierce a foe as the golem, Astaroth? Let's find out._

_Disclaimer: Though none of them appear in this chapter, I own none of the characters created by Namco. While they do own the Soul universe, I am the owner of the story I use it for._

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**Chapter 4: Soul of Memory**

An hour or so after being attacked, Tairene woke to the smell of meat cooking over a fire. By this time the sun had long since set. And there was little more than darkness beyond the firelight. Next to the flame, she could make out the silhouettes of those who had come to her rescue, tending to the fire and the meal. Tai began to carefully rise to her feet, still sore from her battle with the servant of Ares, and made her way to the fire.

The men eyed her as she closed in on them and took a seat by the fire. A moment passed before she finally spoke. "The creature?"

The armored one replied. "Gone. Back from whence it came if I'm not mistaken."

Now this began to make her wonder just where it was the monster had spawned from. "Do either of you know anything about that giant that attacked me?"

Her green-clad savior spoke now. "No. I can't claim to know exactly what that thing was… but it did remind me of something I haven't seen in a long time." He said this last part with a coldness to his voice as he stared into the fire. Eventually, he broke from his trance and continued. "You're just lucky that the people making their way to the crossroads at that moment happened to be warriors willing to face such a creature." He paused and looked at the woman. "And speaking of warriors willing to battle monsters, why did it attack you?"

"I don't know. It just came out of the forest and attacked." Her eyes wavered as she gave this answer. Fortunately, she had already turned toward the fire and he didn't see it.

"Hmmm…. Well, in any case, we put your weapons with ours over there," the young warrior said, pointing to the small pile of diverse weapons, consisting of a 4-foot, gold-handled sword, a katana, a much-larger-than-normal shuriken, and Tai's kunais.

Several seconds passed in thought before the woman returned her eyes to the young man. "You've done so much for me, but I've yet to learn either of your names. Might I know the names of those who saved my life?"

"Only if we might know the name of the life we saved," he said with a smirk.

"All right." She brought her hand to her chest as she introduced herself. "My name is Tairene, though some call me Tai."

As the young man did the same, Tai began to take in his features. "My name is Roren." His hair was styled back into a point and the few hairs that resisted this, attempting to fall over his face, were held back with a black headband. His green eyes gave a slight glimmer in the light of the fire. A T-shaped scar was etched into the left side of his face, just beneath his eye. The garb he wore was a weaving of some green fabric with what looked like tiny gems embedded in the shoulders that were shimmering in the firelight. A long black belt wrapped around his waist several times and held the lower ends of his shirt close. His pants matched the color of his shirt and were tucked into brown boots kept tight by intricate string work around the calves.

Tai then brought her attention to the armored warrior across the fire and began to study him for the first time since her vision blurred and she lost consciousness earlier that day. The more she took notice of, the more her eyes widened in shock. She knew this man. In fact, he had changed the very course of her life with one terrible act.

Meanwhile, Roren, oblivious to Tai's revelation, introduced his friend. "And this is Dralt." This man was obviously much older than his green-clad companion. What hair could be seen under his elaborate dark purple helm was grey and the beard surrounding his mouth was as well, though of a slightly lighter shade. His dark purple armor seemed to cover every bit of his upper half; extending off his shoulders and even shielding the individual fingers of his hand. A tattered cape of a brighter violet was hanged across his back. There was less armor on his lower half, only a set of greaves reaching up to his knees. Above that was a pair of thick black trousers.

With a slight tremble in her voice, Tairene turned to Roren and asked in little more than a whisper, "How long have you known this knight?'

Not noticing the fluctuation in the woman's voice, Roren reminisced on the story. "We met just over a year ago now, when he was on the verge of death. I saved his life and he gave me something to remember him by," he said, pointing out the scar under his eye.

* * *

It had been within a desert many miles away. Roren had made his way there in order to escape those he had once worked for. After acquiring all the information he needed for his quest he chose to leave the band of cutthroats, but they didn't take well to his leaving and set out to kill him. It was his hope that they would assume he had died within the desert, as he was alone and with a limited supply of food and water. Now all he had to do was make sure their prediction didn't come true. 

The sun scorched everything on the dry earth, but a map of the terrain had shown a canyon stretching across the barren expanse, offering the only shade within its confines. Even knowing its exact location, he was lucky to find it. This was because endless waves of heat rising from the ground made it difficult to accurately view his surroundings and often left him disoriented. Eventually, he found the canyon's cliff side and made his way out of the unrelenting sun and into the cool shade below ground. Since the one's who had followed him would probably still be watching the way he entered the desert and his limited supplies wouldn't allow him to wait until they were certain he was dead and left, Roren's only option was to follow the canyon until he reached the other side of the desert.

While the sun made the sands above unbearably hot, its rays never reached the ravine's floor and left it at a near freezing temperature. This hadn't been what he expected, but he could more easily withstand the cold there than being cooked alive where he was before.

Midway through his journey across the desert, the chasm widened and many columns of stone began to appear jutting from the floor all the way up to the top of the gorge. As the cliffs pushed further and further apart the sunlight made its way closer and closer to the bottom of the cliff side, slowly raising the temperature. When it finally hit, Roren caught a glint of something in the sunlight.

A small cave broke into the stone wall. Inside the cave was a knight in purple armor kneeling in the shadows before a magnificent gold-handled sword that was roughly 4 feet in length just within the sun's reach. The man's eyes were closed and he seemed to either be asleep of in a deep state of thought. There didn't look to be any kind of supplies with him, which was strange. Anyone without supplies couldn't expect to last a week in the best of conditions, let alone the hell of this desert. This warranted some investigation.

Roren approached the man in the cave. "Excuse me." The knight's eyelids slowly opened to reveal his ice blue eyes and point them at the intruder. "Do you need assistance, knight? I see that you have nothing of food or water with you."

When the knight answered his deep voice came slowly and with a sense of deep calm behind it. "I need nothing from you… and there is a reason I carry no supplies with me…. I came to this place to die."

Roren was shocked. How could a warrior strong enough to even use this man's massive blade and honored enough to have received something of such majesty even think to throw his life away? "I'm afraid I can't allow you to just sit here and die alone, warrior."

"My days as a warrior are behind me. And besides, how do you expect to keep me from my chosen fate?"

It took a moment, but Roren devised a solution. "Since we both carry weapons with us, I assume we both know how to use them. I suggest we place a wager on our skills. A clash to see who can beat the other. If I win, then you owe your life to me and you'll have to aid me on my quest. If I lose or die in the battle, my final resting place will be at the bottom of this ravine with you."

The knight began to chuckle from the shadows of his cave. "You would challenge a man who hopes to die? What makes you think I won't throw the fight and fall on your blade?"

A smile flashed on Roren's face. "For one, if you could kill yourself so easily then you'd be sitting in the sands instead of the shade." The knight laughter stopped and his eyes grew cross. Roren continued, "It also happens that I'll have to make sure I don't kill you in any case. Your life is my prize for victory, after all. But one reason that surpasses the others, and may be the reason that you fight, would be your pride as a fighter. The size and splendor of your blade give you away as a powerful and renowned warrior. And there's a part of you that still remembers and savors that, and it makes you want to prove you can beat me… even on the verge of death."

The knight had been drawn into this speech and continued to stare at the young man after he'd finished. Soon, however, he closed his eyes and slowly gave a great sigh. "All right. You've got yourself a wager." He took hold of the shimmering blade before him and stood. As he made his way out of the cave and into the sunlight, Roren saw for the first time the shades of grey to the man's hair. He had little time to remark on it, though, as the knight began to charge.

The massive sword swung toward Roren many times, each swing passing mere inches from his body and each evasion pushing him further and further back. When the knight grew tired of his errant swinging he reached out and grabbed his opponent by the collar. Bringing him closer and rearing his sword back, he slammed the hilt of his blade into Roren's face before brutally tossing him into the forest of stone columns. Roren rolled for 20 feet before springing back to his feet. This man was immensely powerful… especially for one pushing himself toward death.

The two now faced each other in the rows between the stone towers. Each was waiting for the other to make a move. The knight chose to press his advantage.

Gripping the 4-foot sword with both hands, he held it parallel to the ground. Letting out a fierce cry, the blade was swung into the nearest column, causing it to crack and topple in the direction of the many others between itself and Roren. While one chain of giant dominoes made their way down the line, the knight was striking at more columns, trying to take down the whole set around his opponent.

Meanwhile, Roren was doing his best to avoid the falling pillars. But amidst the rising dust and roaring noise, a new threat arose. As the rocks crashed and collided, they broke apart and shot tiny shards of themselves in all directions as shrapnel. The knight, covered in his suit of armor, had little to worry about from this. Roren, however, was not so lucky. These shards tore at his clothes as he desperately evaded the larger rocks. Worse yet, he had nothing to protect his face and though he shielded it as best he could with his hands several rocks shot past his guard and dug in just underneath his left eye.

Fighting through the pain of this new injury, Roren still had to evade the remaining towers. He needed to keep moving, but the dust was stifling and he was getting tired. Another thing the dust did was hide the fact that the only remaining columns were all falling on one location… his.

The knight merely viewed the destruction he had caused from the outside, only being hit by the occasional piece of rock shrapnel and having it bounce off his armor. He couldn't see his opponent through the smoke and the only sound to be heard was the crashing of rocks. He could only assume that the young man had been long since crushed. As the noise died down and there was nothing but silence, he prepared to return to his cave. But, before he could turn around, the smoke began to clear, and on the far side of the canyon, sitting on the rubble was Roren: battered and worn, blood streaming down his face, but alive.

After a moment to catch his breath, Roren stood and pointed his blade at the knight. "A tactician I see. Fighting with the environment instead of your sword. Well, we all have an alternative way of fighting. Let me show you mine." At that, he took the 4-pointed shuriken from his back with his left hand. A twist of his body as a wind-up led to a tossing of the shuriken across the long distance between the warriors. The knight easily deflected the weapon, sending it flying off behind him.

"Is that the extent of your abilities," the knight scoffed.

Roren gave a smirk. "Hardly." He held his left hand before him and, in a puff of smoke, the shuriken reappeared. "And there's far more to it than that." Disappearing in another puff of smoke, Roren flashed in and out of the knight's view, going from side to side, on the ground and in the air, but constantly getting closer.

When he finally reached his target, he didn't stop moving. He appeared on all sides in order to disorient the knight. His blade scratched along the armor and his boots struck at joints. As his energy began to run out, Roren appeared on the armored shoulders of his opponent before leaping off in a glorious back flip. Taking the shuriken from his back and twisting in mid air, he managed to throw it with enough force to knock the knight off his feet.

After landing on his own feet, Roren went to check on his opponent, whose helm had come off with the ferocity of his landing. Despite how hard he'd been hit, however, the knight got up very quickly as Roren neared and sent him flying with a blow from the flat of his blade.

Roren collided with a wall of rubble before sinking to the ground. This couldn't be happening. He'd needed that to be the end because now he didn't know if he could muster another offensive. One thing was certain, though… if Roren was going to win this fight, he needed to do it soon.

He looked up and saw the knight approaching. He looked around and saw the wall behind him. A plan formed in his head. There might be a way to win after all. Roren stood up to make his last stand. He took the time to wipe away the blood from his face before taking out the shuriken and holding it beside his katana, prepared to defend against a strike.

The knight saw his defensive stance and stopped just outside the range of his sword, eyeing the agile warrior before deciding how best to proceed. The boy had proven resourceful, but he was getting tired. Even if he did have something up his sleeve, chances were he wouldn't be able to pull it off. A decision had to be made…

The knight took a step back before swinging his blade behind himself and leaping forward in order to bring it down in a crushing blow. Roren narrowly sidestepped the strike and quickly set his shuriken on the massive blade and twisted it, doing his best to lock it in place. The knight did his best to pull his sword back, but even he had grown weary in this battle. When his efforts failed, he reached forward in an attempt to grab his opponent.

Now Roren sprung into action. Setting his sword parallel to the knight's arm, he drove it into the purple gauntlet, between the armor and the wrist. Keeping hold of both his weapons, he leapt up and kicked off the rubble wall and flipped over the knight. As he did so, the knight's arm twisted and wrenched back. This caused him to fall back as he was pulled down and the surprise of it made him lose the grip on his sword. As the knight's back hit the ground he felt the shuriken pressing into his throat, just above his twisted arm.

Panting heavily, Roren pulled back his shuriken and dropped his sword all together. In a raspy voice he managed to say, "Your life… is mine," just before falling unconscious beside his defeated opponent.

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"He's been traveling with me ever since. And he's helped to save my skin in several situations, which means he's doing this to do more than just pay back a debt. As much as I'd like to say I better understand his motives, he won't talk about it, or his past. Maybe he's just staying with me because he thinks he's needed in my quest, but… I think it's more than that." 

This gave Tai much to think about for what she had considered to be a damned soul from her past. Some of Roren's last words, however, had left her curious. "If you don't mind my asking, what is your quest?"

This seemed to catch him off guard and he took a moment before answering. "There is something that I must do, but I may not be strong enough to do it on my own. I will need a powerful weapon to aid my task and I believe that Soul Calibur may be the only blade capable of doing so." At the mention of Soul Calibur Tairene went rigid as she sat. "In a nearby kingdom is a girl who is believed to have wielded it." If it was possible, Tai went even more rigid and even stopped breathing for a few seconds. "Either she has the sword or she can lead us to it."

His words had, in turn, caught _her_ off guard. After a few deep breaths she managed to relax herself. This done, she offered a warning to the warrior in green. "Be careful if you seek that blade, for many have died in the endless war between Soul Calibur and Soul Edge."

Roren merely shook his head before giving his reply. "I have no interest in Soul Edge," he barked. Before continuing, he calmed himself and softened his voice. "I seek to vanquish an evil of a more personal nature."

Before he could continue or she could give more warnings, the third among them spoke. "Excuse me… we have told you of our quest, miss, but we have heard nothing of yours. Might I ask why a young woman such as yourself is traveling these roads alone? And why is it that you stiffened at the very mention of the blade we seek?" Dralt, himself, knew the answers to these questions, both through observation of her reactions and by recognizing the gem around her neck.

While Dralt had not remembered the girl's identity as she had, no doubt, remembered his, she was a face he recalled from his past. The past he both tried to forget for what he'd done… and yet revered for what it gave him.

* * *

He had been knighted and set on the path of chivalry, honor, and loyalty in the service of his King. That moment had been the realization of a childhood dream. However, when a person of strong will accomplishes one goal, they set another. At least, that had always been Dralt's belief. And so, he pushed himself to be the best warrior in the kingdom, soaring through the ranks until, at the age of 27, he found a seat at the king's side as captain of the castle guard. With this new title he discarded the plain, undistinguishable armor of the masses and donned a majestic suit of shining purple armor, set in the kingdom's official color. 

Dralt learned much in his time with King Krieser. He learned that the king, himself, had once been a proud warrior, wielding a blade passed down from a line of many kings, before an injury forced him away from the rigors of combat and into the throne room. He heard many words of wisdom that forced him to consider his own way of thinking and truly decide what he felt was right for in the sense of a community rather than an individual. He saw genuine kindness from this once hardened warrior in what he did for his soldiers, his servants, and even the many people of his kingdom. This man was truly a saint among kings.

One day, after 8 years at the king's side, Dralt was called into his master's chambers.

His majesty had fallen ill several months earlier and had been inching closer and closer to death ever since. Soon after it had become apparent that the king was dying, he was set to bed rest and kept from his throne room. He still ruled the kingdom and made the major decisions for the land, but he wasn't nearly as close to his work as before.

Though Dralt had often gone to be at his majesty's side, he had never been officially called. Now that he had, it could only mean one thing… the king's time was near.

Family and advisors were gathered at the door to the chambers, each waiting for their final word with the dying king. Most were called in individually, though several advisors were brought in together. All of them, however, went before Dralt. When he finally entered the room, it was clear that these would be the king's final moments. The knight removed his gauntlets as he knelt beside the bed and clutched the hand of his master.

The weary eyes of the king looked across at his most trusted advisor, his highest general, and his greatest student. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but everyone must have their turn and I feared I might lose myself in our final conversation and forget the others."

"There is no need for apologies, my lord. I merely--"

"Stop there," the king interjected. "There's not much time for such drabble and I have much to tell you before death, himself, kneels beside me for his last respects." After gathering up his breath the king continued.

"…Aside from my previous reason, I was also intent on seeing what the state of things will be in the kingdom after I've passed. Many whom I've talked to will continue as they have under my rule. Unfortunately, my son, whom it seems I have neglected to teach as I should, will take the throne. I fear he is not ready for rule, and may lose himself in trying to live up to my name. Already he is brash and arrogant, thinking little of those under him. Were there another option I would take it. However, he is my only son and there is no other to be chosen of royal blood. Given this, you, Dralt, will have to teach him where I have failed to. Show him all that I have shown you. Let him know what is right for the people."

The knight's voice faltered slightly as he gave his response. "My lord… I…. I will do my best in this task. For your sake, I will." The king breathed a sigh of relief as he heard these words. All seemed to have been set in order for after his passing. However, there was one item of business left for the heralded knight.

"One thing more, my son…" Dralt stared at the use of this term. "I may be forced to place the throne in the unready hands of my only child, but there is one part that comes with it that I cannot, in good conscience, give to him in his current state. He knows little of it and may think it no more than legend. In spite of my reservations, however, I must pass it on before I die." At this, the king pulled himself up and sat up in bed with whatever reserve of strength he had left.

He now looked deep into the eyes of the violet knight. "Though it must be passed from father to son, I can claim you more my son than my one by blood. And so I shall give it to you… but with the stipulation that when you feel my son is deserving of it, that you would give it to him." Dralt gave his word through tear-filled eyes.

With all troubles put at ease, the king could now allow his soul to rest. His last few breaths gave the location of his final gift before death quietly took him from Dralt's grasp. Following the instructions of his now deceased king, Dralt located the ornate, 6-foot, wooden box within the treasury. Laying it across the stone floor, he undid the locking clasps. The sight of what lay within the box was a glorious one: a sword of flawless steel and a golden handle with a magic rune set on the flat of the blade. The king's gift to him was the sword he had brought with him into battle during his youth. It was the shimmering Blade of Kings, Alondite.

* * *

"You've yet to answer my question, miss." His words weren't hard. In fact, they were calm and more a statement of fact than of accusation. 

Despite this, Tairene was squirming where she sat. She couldn't hide her plans anymore. "I, too, was on my way to seek the girl who holds Soul Calibur. If I can get that sword, then…." She stopped herself. This was all that had been discovered of her true intentions. She looked to the others and Roren seemed content with her answer, though Dralt flashed a knowing smile.

Roren took a deep breath and quickly huffed it out his nose before looking at Tairene and asking, "So what makes you different?"

"Excuse me?"

"You warned me not to go after that sword because I might become a casualty of its war, and yet it turns out that you were trying to get the very same blade when, if today was any indication, you're more likely to end up dying than us. So, what makes you different from us?"

She closed her eyes and sighed before turning to look fiercely at the young man. Her voice was cold. "Earlier, I made an assumption about your quest and now you've made one about mine. We both have personal reasons for wanting that sword and neither of us are out for power for the sake of power. I don't really want to talk about my reasons and from what I can tell, neither do you." She paused here and calmed herself down. "So… if we both have noble intentions for the sword, then the only question now is who's going to get it when we find it."

The two now glared at each other quietly over this quandary, letting the tension build in silence. That silence was soon broken as they started their bickering over who was entitled to receive the blade. Dralt watched helplessly as the young warriors were yelling over each other before he looked to the fire and remembered something.

Dralt coughed into his armored fist to get the attention of the squabblers. It took several tries, but they eventually quieted down and turned to him. "It would seem," he said, "that we have forgotten our meal." At this, everyone's eyes went to the fire to see the meat cooking inside it. Amidst the revelations and arguing they had, indeed, forgotten about the food cooking on the fire. Some quick work at recovering it revealed that, while burnt, it had not been completely ruined.

After the group had saved and eaten the meal Dralt began to speak again. "Well, now that we've filled our empty stomachs, perhaps it's time we got to sleep and prepared for morning." This shocked the other two as they intended to continue their deliberation. Before they could say anything, however, the knight continued. "You two have only just met, and yet discovered that your goals _may_ be in conflict with each other. While that may be at some point, for now your quests are the same. Now, as to who will receive the sword you both seek, that is a decision for the two of you to make. However, since it seems that we have a common destination, you can decide that at another time, and I suggest that you two, at least, sleep on the information you've gathered tonight about each other. And… if that is all, I'll be getting to sleep while you two get rid of this fire."

After his speech, Dralt stood and walked toward the mat he had lain for sleeping and began removing sections of his armor so that he might lie comfortably before sleep. Meanwhile, Roren and Tai started putting out the fire and getting ready for sleep, themselves. As the embers died and they began to lie down, they looked to the starry skies and began to think of what lay ahead for them on their journeys, not yet realizing that their quests were now one.

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_Author's Notes: What are the real goals of these heroes and what drives them to journey for a holy blade? If you don't keep reading, you'll never find out. Next time, Razath will continue his search and travel far to the east to take care of one who might be a hindrance to his plans... and even holds something familiar to him. Please review._


	5. Soul of the Shrine

_Author's Notes: We return to our resident demon, and this time he meets up with someone who has experience in slaying demons, and even carries a weapon he is familiar with. (This would be the thing I hinted at in the closing author's notes in the first chapter) I hope that you enjoy what I've got for you today, and that you'll leave a review or come back for more... if you could do both then I'd be ecstatic._

_Disclaimer: Everything that Namco has already gotten their little copyright symbols on (Soul Series, established characters, etc.) do not belong to me. I can't afford to put those symbols on what does belong to me (my characters, the story... that's it), but trust me, their mine and mine alone. Don't worry, I'm willing to share._

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**Chapter 5: Soul of the Shrine**

After leaving the merchant's tomb and tending to his wounds, Razath spent the next few years searching in secret. In that time he felt the energies of Soul Edge fall, slowly rise to a zenith… and then go silent altogether. The once great source of evil was now lost, leaving only remnants of its power behind. Now unable to seek the sword itself, Razath would have to search exclusively for the remaining shards spread across the world.

Some were easy to find, pried from the hands of pitiful lords and alchemists who had gathered them out of curiosity or lust for power. Others had been found by warriors of various levels of skill seeking the legend associated with the shards. Razath killed them all and merged the fragments with his blade to increase his power.

1 Year Ago

Amidst his travels Razath heard of a woman to the east that had battled Soul Edge in the past and now destroyed any shard she came across. If the dwindling number of shards were being removed from play, then Razath would never achieve the necessary level of power for his goal. He would need to deal with this threat before everything was ruined.

Tracing the woman to the Fu-Ma ninja clan she had been associated with, Razath eventually found the hidden village used as their headquarters. At its center, housed in a foreboding structure, was a Buddhist shrine. Entering in the shadows, the demon felt something strange about this supposedly holy place. There was a vaguely evil aura to the place, some of which emanated from the many shrines and statues. He did not dwell on this long, for he soon found his target on the circular platform at the temple center, huddled over a newly dead corpse. Razath studied her in these few short seconds, looking for flaws in her defense.

She wore a white gi covered with intricate black and white designs. Her thin white socks blended into the fishnets going up her thighs with minimal armor on her shins. On her back were two short blades, one diagonally at her shoulder the other horizontal at her waist. Her minimal armor would cost her when the demon made his move. Before he could leap from the shadows, however, a spirit erupted from the dead body and made its way out of the shrine.

After the woman bid her farewells to the soulless corpse, she gathered her belongings and made for the exit. At that moment, Razath made his presence known and stepped into the doorway. The ninja woman was startled at the appearance of the fierce entity before her. She stepped back and prepared to defend herself from the demon in the raven armor.

Razath stepped forward, expecting her to fall back in terror, but to his surprise she held her ground and showed no signs of fear. This set her apart from the many others he had faced in the recent years. "Taki… ninja of the east and mortal bane of Soul Edge. For your continued efforts to destroy the blade's shards… your life ends tonight."

Taki merely stared at the fiend without moving. "You cannot intimidate me, demon, for I have faced your kind before and slain them as easily as I shall you."

Razath laughed at these words. "Ha! You may have seen evil spirits and darklings escaped from the underworld, but you have faced nothing like _**me**_ before." He would have continued laughing but he sensed something familiar… something he recognized from a long time ago. Doing his best to trace its evil scent amidst the many others in the shrine, he soon found the source.

Pointing his left hand toward the ninja woman he slowly mused, "That weapon you carry at your waist… could it be?' As he finished, Razath's eyes went to the scar between his knuckles. "It is the blade I gave the curse of my blood so long ago."

Taki drew out the ninjato and let its energies pulse between herself and the demon. "You did not curse this blade, oni. Mekki-maru had no signs of evil until I merged it with a shard of Soul edge."

Razath shook his head and smiled. "My curse may have diminished over the centuries, but the steel would have retained its evil alignment for eternity. There can be no mistaking it, that blade has power because of me. And now," he continued, taking the scythe from his back, "that power shall be destroyed by my wrath tonight."

Seeing her enemy prepare for battle, Taki wasted no time in resheathing her cursed blade and leaping into the air to deliver the first unexpected strikes to the demon. Her kicks caught his arm and grazed his armor, having no effect at all. Upon reaching the ground she was violently tossed across the room by the shaft of the black scythe. After regaining her footing, she managed to narrowly roll out of the way of the demon's blade as it came crashing down.

With the point of his scythe pushed through the wooden floor, Razath raked it back towards himself creating a deep line in the wood. And with this new fault line in the floor came a multitude of splinters flying through the air. When the woman moved her arms to protect her face the demon noticed and a plan of attack formed in his mind.

He kept her moving, forced her to focus on evading his weapon as it swung around or the blasts of energy he fired when she was out of reach. But he wasn't really trying to hit her. His real intent was to smash and splinter the wooden planks making up the ground of the platform. Now she'd have to watch her every step in this battle in addition to watching his every move. Eventually she'd lose track of one… and it would be her downfall.

Before that could happen, however, it was he who grew careless. Lunging at her with his scythe, he had forgotten the ninja's agility. She easily sidestepped the attack and flipped up onto the fiend's shoulders, crouching low between the spikes on either side. Bringing out the blade at her shoulder, Rekki-maru, Taki prepared to strike. Having seen the scar across his neck, she knew he could feel pain there. As such, she leaned forward and quickly tried to slit the demon's throat. Her hand was caught, unfortunately, before she could carry out the deed and finish him.

Meanwhile, Razath held fast to her wrist, noting which weapon she had attempted to kill him with. "Fool. You would bring another blade under the curse of my blood?" A gasp came from the form on his back. Taking advantage of her newfound apprehension, the demon pulled at her arm and threw her as far as he could.

In the air Taki managed to resheathe Rekki-maru before twisting so that she might hit the ground with her shoulder and roll back to her feet. Managing to avoid falling into any of the numerous fractures in the floor during her acrobatics, she stood tall as the scythe-wielding monster stared her down. Refusing to charge the demon again in pure aggression, she forced him to come to her. As Razath tentatively stepped forward and the distance closed between them, each was waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

The fiend's patience grew thin as the ninja came within his range. Swinging his scythe in a wide arc, he just barely missed her as she crouched under the attack. When the weapon passed she leapt towards the fiend. Drawing out Mekki-maru, she buried it deep into his bicep and hung from it as he howled in pain.

Razath did not allow himself to be affected by this injury for long. Pushing the woman, and her blade, off his arm he caught her with a hard kick before she hit the ground.

Taki flew far across the room, bouncing once or twice before trying to regain her footing. In her attempt, however, one of her feet did not meet with the floor. Instead, her right leg sank entirely into one of the long splintered lines in the wood. Every motion the limb now made was wracked with pain, despite her minimal leg armor. She couldn't hope to free herself now, not before the demon got to her and without severely damaging her leg. She also couldn't defend herself from this stationary position.

The demon sneered at his trapped opponent. His plan had worked and now the ninja was at his mercy… of which he had none. Wishing to draw out her imminent demise, Razath took his time in making his way over, laughing as he went.

Meanwhile, Taki made an attempt at cutting the wood she was trapped in, but it was no use. Watching the fiend slowly move in for the kill, she realized that her strength had failed her in this battle. At that, an idea raced through her mind. Looking to the cursed blade in her hand, she remembered that she did not always rely on strength.

Stabbing Mekki-maru into the wood before her, Taki focused all of her magical energies around it. Soon a fiery bubble of her essence surrounded the blade and, with her careful hand signs, it began to grow. As this would be her last chance at survival, she needed this to be much larger than any she had created before.

When Razath saw this in its creation, he was unsure of what to think of it, this ball of fiery energy protruding from the floor before his intended victim. By the time he pushed beyond his dumbfoundedness and charged the ninja woman, her last hope measured at over 4 feet in diameter.

Edging around the ball of magic, the demon found himself at the ninja's side. He raised his scythe and prepared to do away with her. But before he could bring his weapon down on her, Taki took the blade from her shoulder and thrust it into her work of magic.

The resulting explosion was a sight to behold. Magic flame burst in every direction, filling the entire shrine. But in spite of its ferocious form and power, nothing seemed out of place as it dissipated. Taki remained trapped within the wooden flooring, immune to the force of her own magic. Nothing within the shrine had been damaged by the blast… except that which was broken by the demon as he flew up and out of the structure.

Soaring through the air like a shooting star, Razath made his descent into the forest surrounding the Fu-Ma village. Crashing into the limbs of a tree on his way down, the fiend was incredibly battered by the time he hit the ground. His armor offered little protection from the blunt forces of the "magic bomb" and his ensuing fall.

However, pain was not something he would so easily allow himself to succumb to. Through sheer will power, he forced his broken body back onto its feet. Looking around he could still see the lights from the ninja village in the distance. He could make it back and kill the wench who had disposed of him.

But as enticing as revenge sounded, Razath though better of it. The explosion within the shrine had been quite loud, certainly loud enough to draw other members of the clan to investigate. In his weakened state, the demon doubted he could defeat all that many of them. Besides, the girl he had come for was now severely injured and would not be traveling on that leg for some time.

The shards of Soul Edge were now his for the taking and he could leave this island in the east. But first he would need to tend to his injuries. Lumbering as best he could, Razath looked for a place where he would not be disturbed.

He soon found a suitable grotto by the sea. From there he could quickly make his way back to the mainland and resume his journey. For now he would have to focus his energies on rebuilding his aching flesh.

Before Razath could complete this process, however, a powerful energy rose in the distance, far across the world. When the demon felt its presence, a wicked smile came across his face. His quest for the shards was now meaningless, for Soul Edge had returned… in _**all**_ its glory.

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_Author's notes: You heard the man, er... demon. The next time we see him, he's gonna be hot on the trail of the object of his desire. I'm sure you'll all love that... except maybe those of you attached to certain characters. But between now and then, we're going to rejoin our heroes, who were only a few day's travel from their destination when we last saw them. Who will take hold of the holy blade. Come back and find out when I post the next chapter, and leave a review on your way out if you'd please. Thank you for reading._


	6. Soul of Light

_Author's Notes: Back for more, eh? Well it's a good thing, cause we're just getting to the juicy part. Soul Calibur makes its appearance and our heroes make a grab for it. As you might expect, it's not going to be that easy. This is a bit of a longer chapter so get comfortable... that is, of course, unless you want to move to the edge of your seat and act like it's exciting. You know what, maybe you could do that anyway, and you won't even have to act like it. Most of this thing is fight anyway. Hope you enjoy._

_Disclaimer:"Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. How many times I gotta tell you? I don't own the rights to Soul Calibur."_

_Disclaimer Part 2: I should also mention that I am in no way connected to Ricky Ricardo, nor do I own the rights to his catch-phrase from "I Love Lucy." I apologize._**

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Chapter 6: Soul of Light 

The new day dawned over the three warriors gathered out of circumstance and they each prepared for the next leg in their respective, and now collective, journeys. Picking up their weapons and supplies, Roren, Dralt, and Tairene started on the path to the girl known as Xianghua and, hopefully, to Soul Calibur as well.

In the beginning, they were deathly silent. Roren and Tairene were still in the midst of deciding who would get the holy blade, but had grown weary of arguing. Meanwhile, Dralt maintained his own silence because Soul Calibur was not his blade to take, nor was it his place to decide its wielder. But more than that, it was important for those two to think on just what it was they wanted and what they were willing to give up for it. And if allowing them to think on their arguments caused that to happen, then the knight would not interfere.

When the silent travel proved to be too much, Roren stopped in his tracks and turned to the ninja girl beside him. "Listen. We need to come to a decision on this now." Unlike the previous arguments, his voice was now soft and almost defeated. Tairene glanced over and nodded to show she was listening, but let him continue. "I still need Soul Calibur as soon as I can get it, but I don't need it for long. If you're willing to wait a little while, and travel with my friend and me a bit longer, then you can have the blade when my quest is over and done with. I only have one monster to slay."

Tairene crossed her arms and looked into the eyes of the young man pleading for her acquiescence. Turning her attention to the violet knight, she could gather nothing from him as his back was turned while he faced the road ahead. She didn't know what to think of the knight given her conflicting recent and distant memories of him. As such, she was unsure of how he would sway her opinion.

Looking back to Roren, she thought on what was necessary for both their journeys. Eventually she turned to the side and said, "It doesn't matter what happens with Soul Calibur before I use it." She reached up to the talisman at her neck before continuing. "My quest will still be there when yours is done, and I can wait a little while. Just don't keep me waiting."

A sigh of relief escaped Roren's mouth and his hands fell upon her shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze in his silent show of appreciation. After this, the 3 traveled much more smoothly. They were still quiet for the most part, but the heavy tension no longer lingered in the air between the younger warriors.

Within a week's travel, they found themselves in the lotus gardens of the once regal grounds in China. Sources gathered by both Roren and Tai told of a girl who carried the mythic weapon they had come for and now resided within the former palace on the estate. Despite once being home to the royal family of China, this place was now regarded as a public park, and the foreign warriors met no resistance as they made their way to the building at its center.

Crossing the bridge over the vast, though shallow, pool of water surrounding the regal structure, the three came across a trio of women in the midst of an argument on a wide circular platform in the water. Two of the women each carried a sword and shield as their weapons and seemed to be asking the third for something. Both were clothed in blue, one with a matching long blue skirt as a bottom and the other with a short white skirt. They appeared to be somewhat similar and may have been related. Various portions of their attire placed their origins in Greece.

The third woman wore a very simple outfit of silk pants and shirt in a sea green and pink, respectively. Her eyes were almost tearful as she looked between the two women who, for the most part, were looking at the sword in her hands. That sword was the holy blade, Soul Calibur.

As Roren, Dralt, and Tairene stepped onto the platform they began to hear the actual words of the argument. The elder of the Grecian warrioresses gave the first words they heard in full. "Cassandra and I need to destroy Soul Edge for the sake of my children, and if you aren't willing to help us in that task, then at least give up that blade so that one of us might use it."

The native girl began to wildly shake her head. "No, no. You don't understand. This sword was given to me by my mother and it is _my_ duty to destroy Soul Edge, but…" At this she wrapped her arms around the sword and held it close to her chest, closing her eyes. Tears formed as she continued. "But I'm not even strong enough to save the one's I care about, let alone everyone affected by that evil blade. Nonetheless, I will become as strong as necessary and I refuse to let someone take over for my duty."

She stood, prepared to fight, before Roren raised his voice and brought the focus to his group. "If I'm counting the numbers right, then you don't have much of a choice."

Realizing that the three new warriors also sought her family's weapon, Xianghua began shaking her head and backing towards the palace. She might have been able to deal with 2, but 5 was too many. Turning around, she started to run across the water bridge into the regal halls.

At this, all 5 warriors began to follow her, but nearly collided as they came to the bridge. Tairene and Roren looked to the Greek women and then to each other, unsure of how they should proceed. Sensing the rekindling tension between them, Dralt made the decision for them. "I'll go after the sword. You two take care of our competition," he said as he pushed forward and ran after the girl they all sought.

When the women carrying swords and shields tried to follow Roren blocked their path. He was all too eager for this moment. This would be the first time he physically fought for no more than the purpose of his quest. All previous battles would mean nothing if he could not achieve victory in this stage of his task. As such, he would need to rely on everything he had learned in the art of combat to see him through this moment.

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He had been wandering the roads between major cities, hungry, penniless, and alone. The only thing of value he carried with him were many shards of broken crystal of unknown origin that he kept hidden. 

It was in this state that they had found him and taken him in, not out of compassion, but because this organization was constantly on the look-out for young loners such as him to increase their numbers. The group that had taken Roren out of the cold was a thief's guild.

Roren soon found that this group perfectly suited the needs of his quest. He needed information, and they were already looking for it. He needed to learn how to fight, and this was necessary for such an occupation. He needed a powerful weapon, and they knew of many.

After being cleaned and groomed from his time on the streets, Roren created an outfit of fine, dark green materials, working his crystals into the shoulders of the design.

When the time came for him to learn how to use a weapon, he was set to learn under one of the leaders, a woman known only as Miser. During the training she put him through there was never any question as to what weapon he would wield…. That is to say that he never had a choice in the matter.

Miser's method of training consisted of handing Roren a weapon and telling him to defend himself. Though a cruel and harsh method, which often left him battered and bruised, he did become proficient in a wide variety of styles, from the standard sword and shield or lance to the bizarre blades such as the wave swords or the bladed boots known as grieve edges. He even learned to improvise a weapon in the form of various instruments and fans.

Roren learned best from example, however, and proved best in the style of his master: the katana and shuriken. Though the object on Miser's back seemed to resemble a red, metal boomerang, Roren went for a more traditional black 4-pointed star shuriken, albeit of a much larger size. It was in this style that he first managed to defeat the woman he called master, having both learned to evade and mimic her techniques.

Amidst his training, Roren was also sent on raids and missions with different groups in order to steal gold and various treasures to increase the guild's wealth. Intent on making the most of his time with these people, he went beyond the expectations of his leaders; plundering more than double his share of gold for his superiors, easily disposing of the treasure's guards, and even devising quiet methods of entry that would minimize the loss of life to both the thieves and the one's the treasure belonged to.

Several years of this criminal genius brought Roren up the ranks until he was almost on par with the one who had trained him. Along with the prestige this rank brought amongst his peers, it also gave the responsibility of deciding what treasure was to be sought after and figuring out how it might be obtained.

Roren took this opportunity to pour over the lists of mystical and powerful weapons that might aid him in his quest. The same quest he had trained so hard amidst these thieves to ensure his victory in. Many of the weapons he found were either too large for him to wield or had faded into complete obscurity. Others called for strange stipulations on their wielder, such as the record of a sword embedded within a boulder in the British Isles. It almost seemed that his search was to be in vain.

Then he happened across the documentation on the "Hero's Sword," Soul Edge. It appeared that many had sought after it for its power throughout history. There were even rumors that it adapted to the needs and abilities of whoever carried it. This seemed almost perfect to Roren. If he could trace whoever wielded it and defeat them or, in a stealthier approach, steal it from him then he would have the ultimate weapon in his arsenal, to do with as he pleased. However, eager at the prospect of this blade, he continued reading on it.

The past few decades seemed to link the sword to various massacres and disasters. Soul Edge seemed to surround itself with death. What's more, many thieves from the guild had gone in search of it… none had ever returned.

In so short a time Soul Edge had gone from being the ideal weapon to something he could never use. Roren had no interest in using an evil weapon as it might not work for his needs. And no blade was worth dying in order to retrieve. Grudgingly, he continued his search through the list of mystic weapons, resigned that he might never find a suitable blade.

All hope was not lost, however, as attached to the notes on Soul Edge were tales of a "Spirit Sword" that had appeared in recent years to do battle with the evil blade. There was little known about it other than its recent activity and its name, Soul Calibur, but it did seem to be equal in power to Soul Edge and an opposite of its energies. This was incredible. A blade of holy magic was just what he needed. Taking in what information was available, Roren deduced a number of possible locations and prepared to leave.

As he did so a problem arose in his mind. He had no intention of handing Soul Calibur over to the thieves of this guild. Even more so, he wanted no one here to know he was on its trail or even knew where it was.

If Roren wished to go after the blade, he would need to do so outside the realm of thieves. Unfortunately, his leaders were very strict on the fact that no one left their organization alive. He might be able to trick them into thinking he was off on a heist, but that could only buy him so much time. The only way that they would leave him alone was if they though he was dead.

A plan developed within Roren's scheming mind and, with careful study of a few maps, he set into motion. Arranging the files he had searched through in such a way as that no one would be able to devise what he had actually done with them, Roren gathered some supplies and quickly left the thief's den on the next portion of his journey.

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Roren now stood before the elder warrioress while Tai prepared to face off against the younger one who seemed a bit more lighthearted on the situation. Each tandem took their defensive stance, waiting for the other to make the first move. The tension rose until the woman before Tairene spoke. "Come on, will somebody do something already?" When the others merely stared and did nothing, she rolled her eyes and charged at the ninja girl. 

For all her impatience, the girl proved to be an impressive fighter. Tai was kept on the defensive and had to move her short weapons quickly to keep up with the sharp blade striking at her. The shield also showed its use as more than a defensive tool by pushing her and keeping her off balance.

As Tai did her best to defend herself, Roren began his confrontation with the more mature combatant. Another contrast to the one she traveled with was her sense of grace, the way she held herself in battle. She seemed to glide as she evaded Roren's strikes and her shield tossed away any she was unable to avoid completely. He was unable to land a single blow.

When she crouched low, Roren prepared for an upward swing. Instead she leapt up and flipped forward, bringing her heels down on the back of his neck. He was knocked so senseless by this maneuver that he never saw the back flip coming. The kick sent him back and actually took him off his feet.

Tairene was faring no better. Her opponent continued to keep her off balance and push her around. She was having trouble evading the strikes brought against her. Amidst her stumbling, the girl pulled Tai closer and slapped the hilt of her sword and the side of her shield against the ninja's head. This clap completely disoriented her and she fell back to meet Roren on her way down.

The two were now groggily standing back to back, the oversized shuriken pressing against them both as their opponents circled around them. They prepared to defend themselves but were unsure of how to proceed in the battle they were failing so miserably at.

Roren turned his head to whisper in his companion's ear. "I'm not doing so well, and from what I can gather, neither are you. Any ideas?"

"Well obviously not. If I had any working ideas, we'd have won by now. But this girl's unorthodox style keeps pushing me off my footing. I don't even have the chance to strike."

A chuckle escaped from Roren's mouth. "Oh, I could teach her a thing or two about an unorthodox style. This one's got some strange kicks, but for the most part she focuses on defending until her opponent slips up."

"A little standard form is nothing to be worried about. In fact, a good portion of my training came from the way she's fighting you."

"You know what, I think we're both fighting the wrong girl." Roren turned to see the Grecian women surrounding them. "In any case, we still need to find a way out of our current predicament."

Tai pressed herself harder against Roren's back as the women moved in closer. In the process, she felt the large shuriken turn slightly with her pressure. A thin smile came to her face. "I think I've got one of those ideas now. Let's see how fast that thing on your back can spin. DUCK!"

Having some idea of her plan, Roren dropped to his knees and kept his back as flat as possible. Tairene showed her acrobatic skill as she jumped into the air, stashing her weapons in her belt, before landing on her hands as they gripped the 4-pointed star. She then used her legs to twist herself and get the shuriken spinning with her on top. The speed rose quickly and her legs split to catch the approaching women across they face. Too close to escape by the time they realized the attack, they were knocked back and fell to the ground.

The shield bearing women were by no means defeated only a little surprised by the attack. Tai quickly fell to her feet from Roren's back as they each set their sights on their new target.

In the meantime, Dralt had caught up with the one who carried Soul Calibur. Ordinarily, she would have been much faster that someone his age and size, but at the moment she wasn't thinking straight; she was trying to get away without more than a panicked thought as to how she'd do it. The knight got ahead of her. When she stopped in order to avoid running into him, he raised his mystic blade to meet hers. Seeing no other option, she began to fight in order to escape.

Dralt's heavy weapon was easily dodged by the lithe young woman. Her agility allowed her to almost dance away from his strikes. The only brief moments that Alondite met with Soul Calibur was as it was deflected and left the knight open to attack. The effects of these openings were felt as Xianghua came at him with swift kicks. She even managed to glance his armor a few times with the holy blade, itself.

After one particular thrust from his sword, the girl latched on to the hilt. When he pulled back, she let the momentum carry her off the ground. She then swung up into the air above the knight. Gravity pulled her back down where her feet met with Dralt's helmet. With knees bent, she leapt off at the moment of impact, sending him to the floor and allowing her to gracefully flip back to the ground.

This would not do for the one in violet armor. He had come too far, committed too many sins, to fail now when the method of his salvation was within reach. Picking himself off the floor, Dralt desperately tried to find a new tactic to get the blade he needed.

Roren and his new opponent seemed to be trading blows evenly. Their respective self-learned styles complimented each other well as each strike and deflection came quickly, and with a swift response from the other. Both of them realized that this stalemate would continue until one of them did something unexpected. It was the girl who made that deviation.

Gripping the green-clad warrior by the shoulders, she pushed him into a near crouching position. Lifting off his knee, she got a foot on the back of his neck. From there she leapt as far as she could. At the height of her jump she twisted back, tossing her shield at her opponent in the hopes of catching him off guard.

What she didn't know was that the young man was quite used to surprise projectiles. He turned quickly and, upon seeing the incoming shield, swung his katana up to deflect it. A clang resounded through the air as the shield changed its direction and flipped in the space between the warriors. The Grecian girl hit the ground and could only watch as her main line of defense fell into the hands of her opponent.

Vaguely familiar with the style of a sword and shield, Roren loosely strapped the new piece onto his left wrist. He then made a charge at his almost unarmed adversary. She was utterly unprepared to defend herself with just her blade. She ran and dodged and did whatever she could to avoid the confrontation. In the process of watching her distance herself, Roren thought of a way to end the battle.

As the girl raced along the watery edge, he tossed the shield across the ground, aiming for her legs. She stopped and managed to avoid being hit but just barely missed the opportunity to reacquire her shield as it sank into the vast lily-filled waters. Turning back to face her opponent, she found him right in front of her before he launched her into the air with a somersault kick.

Before gravity could begin to pull her down from her sudden 10-foot elevation, Roren matched her height in a puff of smoke. With as much force as he could muster, he set the heels of his boots in her side and pushed her beyond the platform's edge. She sank into the water, joining her shield, before rising back to the surface and struggling back to the rim. Though she was able to hold on, with her weapons forsaken to the water's bottom and her body bruised she could not bring herself back into the fight.

Roren now turned to the battle still at large between Tairene and the remaining shield bearer. With the numbers now in his favor, he positioned himself behind the woman so she would have to fight an opponent on either side.

When he had moved in close enough and was about to take her by surprise, she quickly turned around, swinging her shield wide. At this point, Roren was close enough that this motion proved disastrous. The brim of the defensive armament struck him in the side of the head. He spun around and took a wavering step forward while the katana dropped from his hand, the shuriken from his back, and he fell into an unconscious heap.

The Grecian warrioress had not intended to hit him. She was far too engrossed in the even battle with her shadowy opponent to even notice that he'd been there and had merely been performing one of her more extravagant maneuvers. Upon feeling the impact and hearing the clatter behind, however, she was distracted for a brief moment by the unexpected body behind her. This distraction was used well by Tairene as she left the ground and connected both feet in a vicious kick on her opponent, who proceeded to stumble over her unintended victim.

While struggling to regain her footing after the attack, the shield bearing woman desperately tried to get her focus back on the ninja girl. But when she turned around, she only caught the faintest sight of motion to her left. Tai had twisted out of view, a light blue energy coating her right hand. When she stopped moving, her fingers clenched around its kunai. With a step forward, her energy-laden fist rose, striking the Greek fighter in the jaw with a terrific uppercut, and lifted her off the ground

Her feet touched the ground again and she took a few steps backward before sinking to her knees and lying prone on the ground. The ninja girl held her position until she was certain her opponent was out. She then let out a sigh of relief. This battle was over, and now all that was necessary was for the knight from her past to get the sword. In the meantime, she tried to rouse the fallen Roren.

Dralt's efforts continued to be in vain. Despite the girl's earlier assertion of her own inability, she proved quite capable of defending herself. He still needed a new tactic, especially if he did not intend to kill her.

She still danced around his blade, making a mockery of his attacks. At one point she leapt as high as the ceiling would allow and fell with a kick meant for the knight's face. Instead, it struck the sword he had managed to raise in defense.

While the girl's weight pressed down into Alondite as it was held above his head, Dralt realized just how small she was, probably less than 100 pounds. Before his thoughts could set on this, she flipped backwards off the blade and returned to the ground. The proper method for taking Soul Calibur slowly came to his mind.

With his sword still in its high defensive position, Dralt moved as if he were going to slash downwards. When the girl sidestepped the blade's expected path, the knight drastically altered his attack, twisting around and sweeping it across the floor. The flat of the blade knocked the girl's legs out from under her. She hit the ground hard, but was otherwise fine.

Before she could regain her composure and get back to her feet, Dralt planted the tip of his massive weapon into the ground beside her. He then tilted it he her direction and released it, allowing it to fall on top of her small body. The blade easily weighed as much as the girl and likely weighed more. She was pinned underneath it with her limbs unable to force it off of herself. Her inadequate strength, however, did not stop her from struggling.

The knight now crouched beside her and began to speak. "I'd avoid squirming so close to that blade's edge if I wore you. It's quite sharp." She stopped moving and gave Dralt a look that seemed undecided between fierce and tearful. Her right arm rose in an attempt to attack with Soul Calibur, but he caught her wrist. Tears began to flow, but her eyes were no less fierce.

Dralt continued calmly. "You fight for a noble cause. However, something has caused you to believe yourself weak. Though this is not the case, it has prevented you from carrying out your task. And now I must take the weapon that you hold so dearly." He extended the arm still in his grasp. Keeping his voice calm, he continued, "Soul Edge will be destroyed, but it will not be by your hand." At this, the ferocity in the girl's eyes gave way to the tears as she released the legendary blade from her hand and let it clatter to the floor.

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_Author's notes: Did that end a bit abruptly? I thought so. What happened was that this chapter was getting much longer than I had anticipated and chapter 8 was gonna be shorter than I liked, so a little 'cut and paste' was done with the storyboard. We'll see what our heroes do with Soul Calibur when it's their turn again. But before that, we need to check up on Razath and see how he's going to go about getting Soul Edge. You know you want to see what's going to happen._


	7. Soul of Darkness

_Author's Notes: We continue on. Razath is about to make a play for Soul Edge, but there are others much more connected to that sword that we need to see before him. Now, some of you out there are going to really hate me within the next couple of minutes, so while you're in here reading, I'm going to be setting up a defensive shield the protect myself from fanboy-related death. I hope you enjoy regardless._

_Disclaimer: If you haven't heard it yet, I'm telling you now. I don't own the rights to the Soul Calibur universe, the characters within, or anything generally related to this Namco franchise. Though not with official paperwork, I do own the characters of my own creation and the story surrounding them._

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Chapter 7: Soul of Darkness 

Nightmare, once the very essence of Soul Edge forged out of many years of blood and known as Inferno. He was now on the run from the one who provided the model for his current body and had given him his present name. Though the gruesome figure ran, he did not fear Siegfried. He merely sought a suitable site for their final battle; a battle he was certain he would win as long as the full form of Soul Edge remained within his grasp.

Only one place seemed appropriate for the duel. The place where Siegfried had lived for most of his life. The place where Nightmare had first tried to piece together the dark sword from which he spawned. The place where Siegfried and Nightmare became separate entities through the actions of a swordsman and by the will of a dark skinned man. The Castle Ostrheinsburg; where both began and where one would end.

Siegfried was still a day behind him, and the doppelganger intended to use this time to feast. He searched the castle high and low for the girl who had pledged her servitude to Soul Edge. Her soul brimmed with evil and would make a wonderful meal and provide great sustenance for the battle to come. However, she was nowhere to be found.

By the time Nightmare had given up on his search, there was no time to find a suitable replacement to satiate his hunger. His enemy approached the castle sooner than expected. Nothing would keep either from this looming battle. The monstrosity resolved that he would have to fight hungry and moved to the ruined chapel to wait for his former host.

Charging down the halls of his old home, Siegfried could sense the presence of the one who had possessed him for those long years. He thought he had rid himself of that curse the last time he left the castle. But the villain had somehow formed a body of its own and, after reclaiming a completed Soul Edge, led him back to this place. And now the tormented knight vowed he would ensure the evil was gone forever before he allowed himself to leave.

He found the creature standing in the middle of the chapel were it had been expelled from his body, with the stained glass window standing tall behind him. As the good knight drew his oversized blade he heard the bellowing laughter of his opponent. Raising his evil weapon, the hideous copy pointed its tip at Siegfried, saying, "Prepare yourself. This place will soon become your grave." And now they stood waiting for the other to make a move and their final clash to begin.

Nightmare's fiery eyes burned from within his helm and were all that could be seen of his face. The helm extended into the armor covering most of the other portions of his body in a shining blue, earning him the title of "the Azure Knight" during his massacres. The parts uncovered were the spines protruding from his back, the gaping maw across his chest, and the monstrous right arm, complete with only three clawed fingers holding fast to the weapon in their grasp.

Though Siegfried's body was not made of the hellfire that his opponent's soul comprised of, his fury burned all the hotter inside to spite that fact. After relieving himself of the armor he wore while possessed, he did everything he could to separate himself from that image. No longer wearing plate armor, he opted for chain mail beneath his red and yellow shirt depicting his coat of arms. His once long blonde hair was now cut short and fruitlessly still trying to fall down his back. The scar across his right eye quivered as he gave one final blink before launching himself at his enemy to begin the bout.

The battle started with a seeming evenness to it as Siegfried's blade, Requiem, blocked or was blocked by the near equally sized Soul Edge. But as it progressed, Nightmare was gradually losing ground and would soon find himself pushed against a wall.

There were several reasons for Nightmare's failing. As an unstable shell created through magic to resemble a human form, he needed souls to maintain himself. Likewise, Soul Edge demanded souls of its own to devour and would eat away at its wielder until it received its meal, making the Azure Knight weaker as he continued on. Also, most of his swordplay was based on memories of inhabiting Siegfried's body, and since his opponent was a master of the style they both used, the doppelganger's attacks were easily recognized and avoided.

If this battle had continued, then there is no doubt that Nightmare would have been slain by the one who most deserved to kill him. But as fate would have it, their duel was being watched from atop a ruined tower in the castle. Before any final blow could be struck, that spectator made his presence known with a wicked laugh that echoed through the castle grounds. Both of the fighters turned to try and find the source of this shadowy laughter. Both were distracted momentarily, but only Siegfried paid for it.

After turning his back to his greatest enemy, the blade that had corrupted him so long ago buried its edge within him. Nightmare then lifted him up while he was still caught on the blade and swung it around, tossing Siegfried through the stained glass window where his body then fell to the moat far below.

Though glad to be rid of the one who had so nearly defeated him, the abomination now turned his attention to the voice that had yet to show its body. Before he could begin to search the figure pounced from off its vantage point, landing on the edge of the chapel's broken floor. As the form straightened into its full height, Nightmare eyed the newcomer… the demon warrior, Razath.

At the presence of the fiend, Soul Edge pulsed in his hand, begging him to consume this great evil. A chuckle escaped from Nightmare as he spoke to his new opponent. "I assume you're here for this," he said, indicating the blade in his deformed hand. "Well you'll get plenty of it when I cut you in half. Hmmm. An evil soul like yours could keep me sustained for a lifetime."

Razath took the scythe from off his back and spun it once before planting its staff into the ground and replying to the Azure Knight's claim. "When Soul Edge serves my purpose, evil will flood this realm. A pity that you'll never see it." This angered the monstrosity and he charged to begin the new battle.

Having acquired a meager portion of Siegfried's soul, Nightmare was not so hungry and his strength no longer suffered for it. As such, his attacks came swiftly and the demon could do little more than deflect them.

Due to the fury of his opponent, Razath was unable to get in a good hit since he needed to arc his large, awkward weapon to use its blade effectively. And so the weapon he had come for continued to strike at him until a particularly powerful attack broke through the staff a foot beneath the scythe's metal edge.

Surprised by this new turn of events, the demon took hold of his weapon's separate pieces and retreated to the other side of the chapel. Thinking quickly, he held the blade by its opposing spike in his right hand while the long staff fit into his left. When Nightmare moved in to attack his sword was kept at bay by the scythe's blunt edge. Now wielding two weapons, Razath swung his staff against the knight's head.

Though this first strike proved successful in jarring his opponent, the demon soon found these attacks offered little damage through the armor, or on the monstrous hide of his deformed right arm. Attacking with the blade would prove difficult as the sharp edge was on the inside of the curve. Nonetheless, Razath continued in this manner until he could devise a better method. When he did, he came to the realization that while his enemy's outsides were well protected, there was a prime target that did not fit either description.

Backing away from the knight, Razath adjusted the scythe blade in his hand so that he carried the tip between his fingers. Then, with a great twist of his body, he tossed the uneven weapon at his opponent's core. Tightly gripping Soul Edge in his clawed hand, Nightmare used it to bat away the blade, exposing the chest he assumed it was intended to hit.

The demon, however, merely sought to use it as a diversion as he charged after throwing the blade. With the knight's chest unguarded, he thrust the point of his staff into the mouth at its center. The monstrosity let out a howl of pain as it burst out his back, pushing the armor aside. Not wishing to end his enemy's torment, Razath pushed him back until the pole he was impaled on met with the crumbling stone wall and embedded itself inside.

Now stuck against the wall, Nightmare raised his deformed arm in preparation to bring Soul Edge down on the one who had caused him so much pain. But before he could strike, the demon's clawed fingers wrapped around his wrist, pressing it against the wall. As the claws sank into the hideous flesh the staff was twisted and pushed deeper into the wall. Writhing in pain, he allowed his legendary weapon to fall to the floor before his fiery eyes grew dim.

Meanwhile, Soul Edge lay on the cold stone, the living eye in its center looking around frantically, unsure of what was to be its fate. Everything surrounding the eye appeared to be made of fleshy muscle or blood. The only exceptions to this were the handle and the blade's cutting edge, both of which seemed to be fashioned out of bone.

Releasing his hold on his ancient and now broken weapon, Razath picked up the prize he had been seeking. As his hand held firmly to the hilt and he raised it above his head, the eye went wide and the sword let out a great howl as it contorted to the desired form of its new wielder.

The muscle-like components of Soul Edge's middle melted over the hilt as it elongated. A bony tip pushed its way out of the staff to form its point while the blood red tissue made up the rest of the five-foot length. The eye had moved to the top of the pole while circle of bone began to surround it. The blade's edge had twisted to fit beside the eye, bending itself inwards. The result was a ragged but sharp edge along the inside of the curve. Lastly, two spikes burst through the eye's circle on opposite sides of the scythe's blade and staff. Blood began to form on the bone material as Soul Edge's howling stopped and its transformation finished.

Razath had little time to admire this work of destructive beauty before a brief moaning sound, followed by a myriad of clangs, rose behind him. He turned to see Nightmare dissolving into an ethereal mist while his armor fell to the floor. Though the shell had died, he still remained as the essence of Soul Edge and the mist began moving back towards its first home, intent on possessing the one who had defeated it.

The demon would have no such thing. Pulling his newly acquired weapon away from the mist, he stepped back and held out his left palm to face what remained of his opponent. "No!" he shouted as runes began to glow in his arm, building up to his hand. A sly grin came across his face as he gave the words, "I will not be so easily controlled." With that, the energy burst from his palm and scattered the living mist throughout the surrounding area.

Free from any more obstacles, Razath left the castle to begin the journey back to his long time prison, ready to release the underworld and all his fellow demons within.

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_Author's Notes: Pretty good, eh? I sure hope so. This was one of the most crucial battles and I had a lot of fun with it. I'm sorry to everyone who is a fan of Siegfried, but I this fight needed to be between the two big evils, and I didn't want to say that he just gave up on chasing Nightmare. I was originally going to say he lived in some way, but then again he did get cut open and tossed out a window and down... 10 stories to a moat. Sorry again._

_Anyway, I hope the rest was to your satisfaction, those that were affected by that particular portion of the chapter. To the rest of you, I hope you enjoyed all of it. The most fun part to write here was the actual transformation of the blade as I hadn't seen it done anywhere (however, to be fair, I haven't looked that hard). Now, how will the elements seen here affect the rest of the story? You'll have to keep reading and find out. Tune in next time to see the aftermath of the battle for Soul Calibur and what becomes of our heroes._


	8. Soul of Duty

_Author's Notes: Here we are again. We know what Razath plans to do with Soul Edge, but how will Roren, Dralt, and Tairene use the blade they fought for? Well, reading on seems like an excellent way to find out. Also, for those of you who have been wanting some answers in this story, like the connection between Dralt and Tairene, you are going to get some of those here. Enjoy._

_Disclaimer: If you are reading this, then know that I only own what I have created within my mind, and even then only with the help of the character creation system of Soul Calibur 3._

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Chapter 8: Soul of Duty

Tai had only just managed to revive Roren as the violet knight returned, carrying his own sword on his back and something in his hands, wrapped in a red silk bundle, holding it out for them to take. They seemed confused by this offering until Dralt removed the silk to reveal Soul Calibur. The icy blue blade extended from the hilt in wings, forming the hand guard. Rising up from this, the sword was split into two halves with a gap in the center all the way to the tip. And from every bit of steel there seemed to be an ethereal glow. It was truly a sight to behold.

Though still groggy from his head injury, Roren was the first to speak. "Thank you for getting the sword, but why… this?" he said, indicating the silk wrappings.

"Since I'd heard it mentioned that the blade changes shape to suit its wielder, I thought it best if I didn't carry it directly," was his response.

Roren nodded as he reached out and prepared to take hold of what he had waited so long to attain. Before he could put his hand to the hilt, however, he stopped himself. His eyes danced around in thought and he eventually began to cover up the sword in the crimson silk.

Tairene eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

He began to fit the concealed sword into his belt. "There's no need to wield it right now, and I don't really like the thought of carrying it out in the open. We've already seen two people looking for the sword. Who knows how many more we might see on the road?"

The ninja folded her arms across her chest. A moment passed before she actually spoke. "Well, you have some good points there, but just how long is the road we're traveling?" Confusion flared in the young man's eyes as he looked to his armored friend and then back to her. She continued, "We agreed that as soon as your quest was over, I got that sword, and that you only had one evil to slay. So tell me… how do we find this evil?"

A distant look came across Roren's face as he realized that in his lust for vengeance, that question had not occurred to him before. "It's strange to only think it just now… but I don't have an answer to that question. I mean, I always knew I'd find it again… I just never thought about how." Both of his companions turned away in disbelief of such a vital stepping stone being neglected. "I guess the only thing we can do is go to the last place I saw it and work from there."

Before Tai could voice her aggravation, Dralt spoke over her. "If that's our only option then I suppose we have little choice in the matter." Though she was still upset, this did quiet Tai down. With nothing more to discuss on the subject, the three left the Chinese palace grounds and began to search for the evil from Roren's past.

A week or so into their journey and in the dead of night, Tairene grew tired of waiting for her turn.

The group now rested in a meager clearing within a grand forest. As she rose from her feigned sleep, she looked to the others who didn't seem to be faking theirs. With as much stealth as she had been trained to use, she crawled over to the pile of weapons. Forsaking the one's she carried for so long, she instead selected the blade hidden in red silk.

Once again checking the state of her companions, Tairene picked up her prize and raced off into the woods. When she thought herself a fair distance, she knelt down and placed the silk bundle on the dirt. Undoing the tie that Roren had added, she exposed Soul Calibur to whatever moonlight could make it through the treetops.

Anticipation coursed through her veins and her fingers idly grasped at the talisman at her neck. She could easily take the world's fate into her own hands and do what she felt needed to be done. Conflicting with her desire to perform the act, however, was the sense that she would be betraying the ordeals of those she traveled with, both of whom had saved her life. After an internal struggle, she found herself unable to commit that act of betrayal.

Before she could move to cover up the blade and begin the trek back to the clearing, a deep voice rang out behind her. "I'd hoped you'd be a bit less premature about doing this." Tairene turned to see the violet knight calmly walking towards her between the trees. But something was quite different about the way she saw him tonight.

Every other time she'd seen him, he had been covered in his suit of armor. Now, however, he had left the armor behind at the campsite and his form was considerably smaller without it. Covering his frame was the cloth shirt he wore beneath his armor to prevent harm by rubbing against the metal. As he neared, his silvering hair seemed to shine in the moonlight.

Tai backed up and let the sword lay uncovered between herself and Dralt. She refused to speak, and so he continued. "I recognized the gem… and because of it knew your intent from the beginning." He let out a sigh and leaned against a tree before looking up at what stars he could make out through the branches. "I know how it feels, to set upon yourself such an impossible duty… but you'll understand when I tell you not to do anything you regret to do what you think is right." His eyes fell to hers and she could see his sorrow over the terrible deed he'd committed.

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It had been more than 10 years since King Krieser had died. Though Dralt was an old man by most standards now, and certainly by military standards, it would seem that the king's final gift to him had seen to it that his graying hairs were the only signs of his age. He had never lost any of his strength to his years and had even thought himself stronger than in his youth.

The young prince Tyrann had matured into every bit the arrogant and power hungry king his father had feared he would. He waged many wars with neighboring kingdoms so that he might have more land. The chivalrous knights of the castle were now outnumbered by foreign mercenaries willing to perform any action the king commanded so long as he paid their fee. He ignored the cries of his people who were suffering, usually a result of his own deeds or from the cruelty of the mercenaries he hired.

Dralt stood on the edge of the kingdom, thinking on the way things had turned out. In almost every aspect, he had failed in his final promise to his king. Tyrann ignored his words and spat on his advice and wisdom, much of which came from his father. This king relied on nothing more than brute force and strength of arms. There was nothing of his father in him, and Dralt found himself to blame.

After so many years of failed effort, Dralt fell to his knees and wept. In spite of, or perhaps to spite, his every attempt Tyrann refused to learn from anything the knight gave him. Perhaps he thought that the words of one born a commoner could never have meaning to one of royal blood. Perhaps it was his form of revenge at the father who neglected him in life by ignoring his words in death. Or perhaps he merely refuted anything that implied control or limitations on his power. Whatever the reason, it had prevented Dralt from keeping his word to the one who had been very much his own father.

Looking to the blade his king had given him, Dralt cursed it for what he had sworn to do with it. Tyrann would never hold Alondite with the way things had gone. Pounding the ground, he muttered through his tears, "The only way that man is deserving of this blade is for me to run him through with it."

And with those words his tears stopped and his eyes went wide. That brief moment of clarity brought on a wave of madness; a madness that allowed him to justify the terrible deed brewing in his mind.

His lord and master's wisdom had known no bounds. He had to have known that this would have been the most probable outcome. He had even mentioned his son's callous nature before his death. Even if he hadn't seen this coming, he wouldn't have wanted the kingdom to turn into the pit of despair it now was. And it was in this diseased state of mind that Dralt set himself on the path back to the castle, intent on destroying everything that tarnished the name of his good king; everything from the many mercenaries within the castle to the very king who sat on the throne.

The first to fall were those guarding the castle doors. They'd had no idea of his intentions and opened the door wide for him. Their deaths were quick and merciless, but their cries alerted the other guards and an alarm was sounded.

Dralt didn't care. In fact, it worked better for him if everyone he intended to kill was coming to him.

Mercenaries came and fell at the violet knight like waves crashing against a rock. For as much as these hired swords were paid they were no match for the combination of the powerful blade in Dralt's hands and the feral madness he was in.

There were few knights left in the castle as Dralt made his rampage. Since they were still trained in the ways of chivalry and honor, often by Dralt himself, the king had little use for them. Much of their numbers were stationed on the outskirts of the kingdom to protect against invasion, while Tyrann kept himself surrounded by those he knew would be loyal so long as they were paid.

Even in his maddened state, Dralt refused to kill those he knew had remained good people during the king's reign. When he came across any of the knights he had trained, he looked into their eyes and peered into their souls, searching for a sign of hesitation or dislike for the duties they were given. If he found what he was looking for, then they were merely brushed aside with little injury as he continued forward. If he saw that they had abandoned the honorable ways he had taught them, Dralt cut them down indiscriminately. The mercenaries were less fortunate as he wasted little time on gauging their conscience. Few were spared and many that lived were not left undamaged.

When Dralt finally reached the throne room, he discovered a new kind of enemy. These were the warriors that specialized in "information" that he had heard about but never seen. They carried weapons he was not familiar with and fought more with agility than strength. But for all their strangeness they wore little armor and Dralt easily cut them down, leaving just one, a young woman, alive. It now seemed that only the king he had come for remained.

But as he made his way toward the defiled throne, a figure materialized out of the shadows behind him. When this figure struck at Dralt, he turned to see the elderly master of the strange warriors he had just fought, wielding no discernable weapon. While the others had easily fallen to his might, this one battled with much more skill. Errant swing after errant swing of his blade was met with nothing but evasion as the two danced through the throne room.

This last and most powerful of the hired mercenaries had many tricks to perform before he would allow himself to fall. The master spent much of his time in the air as he jumped all around the sword seeking to destroy him. If the opportunity presented itself, he kicked at the knight's knees trying to take out his mobility. When that didn't work, he resorted to using techniques unseen by those of the western world.

Dralt watched as the man spun on his heels and faded out of view. Before he could decide what it was that he'd seen, the master reappeared behind him with a kick to his back, knocking him off balance. This happened several times and the knight could not decide how to defend against it. Any attack would be useless as the man would fade away before it hit. It took a moment, but Dralt managed to devise a way to ensure he'd strike the foreign master.

Breaking away from the old man's attacks, Dralt swung his blade around as his opponent pursued him. But before the steel could touch him, the ninjutsu master once again faded from sight. Dralt never stopped the momentum of his sword, however, and continued his swing until, as he had expected, the old man appeared behind him again and Alondite embedded itself within the side of the final mercenary's ribcage.

The master sputtered and coughed blood as the knight watched the color drain from his face. Before the man could die, Dralt leaned in to whisper, "I'm sorry that so many deaths were necessary, but this king must die." As the knight pulled back from these words and sought to finalize his rampage, the old man gave one final attack.

Pulling a needle from the band at his waist, he drove it into the side of the knight's neck. Dralt flinched from this strike, before wrenching the needle from his neck and sliding the now dead man off his sword.

The needle itself had done nothing more than surprise him, but he soon began to feel the effects of the poison it was soaked in. His head began to wrap itself in a fog and his senses began to dull. The world began to grow dim but Dralt would not allow himself to go completely dark until he had completed his task.

While he still could, the knight turned to see king Tyrann sitting in his throne and began to stagger toward him. If his sight were not failing from the poison then he would have seen the look of terror in his intended victim's eyes. When he thought himself close enough, Dralt thrust his sword forward until he felt it pierce the throne. Unable to see his target and too weak now to remove his blade, the knight fell forward on his knees before the king's feet.

With the last of his strength Dralt lifted his head to see the result of his actions. Though he had managed to draw royal blood, his strike had been too high and only cut a few inches into the king's right shoulder. His last sight before falling into blackness was of another failure in his intentions with the king.

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"I'm not going to stop you, because you're the only one that can really stop yourself. I'm not even going to say what you want shouldn't be done. All I'm going to do is ask that you wait just a little longer and… think before you do anything." Dralt took his weight off the tree he'd been leaning against and turned back to the clearing. With his back to the girl, he offered a few more words. "That blade is capable of good things… let it be used for them."

Strange emotions swirled around in Tairene and once again she was unsure of what to think of the "Mad Knight of Ursprung." Before he could get too far, she bade her choice and called after him. "Wait!" Swiftly picking up Soul Calibur in its bundle, she caught up with Dralt and stood in front of him. Holding the covered sword out for him to take, she explained herself. "I wasn't going to do it. I mean… I brought it out here so that I could but… it just didn't seem right with the way… he's counting on it." With these last words she looked into the darkness toward the campsite, before slumping her head against her chest and letting the silence reign.

Dralt placed a hand on her shoulder and took the silk-covered sword with his other. He turned her around and they began walking back to the clearing.

Something within Tairene could not sit well in this peace. A question she had long asked herself needed answering. She stopped in her tracks and waited until the knight turned to her. "Before we go on, I need you to tell me something. You remember me from that day… that terrible day." Dralt nodded grimly. Tears welled in Tai's eyes as the words formed in her throat. "Why did you let me live?"

* * *

Tairene and the others from the "information corps" stood within the king's throne room. They, along with their master, would be the last line of defense against the mad knight charging through the castle. Echoing down the stone halls were the harrowed final screams of the many sent before them.

When the knight in purple armor made his way into the doorway the group of ninjas stared down the one they knew as Dralt. This would be their first real battle, for though each of the specially trained warriors had killed before, it was usually without their victims knowing of their presence. The plan they devised was to all charge the knight at once and overwhelm him with numbers and speed until one of them got an opportunity for a killing strike. Their master would stand by the king to view their work and step in if they failed.

The ninjas surrounded Dralt, kicking and striking with their eastern blades. But while they succeeded in outmaneuvering the knight, he knew all too well where the holes in his defenses were and was quick to cover them up when any of them made to strike. One by one these warriors fell as they attempted to take down the knight until only one amongst their ranks remained.

With all her comrades dead, Tairene became the only target and had to focus her energy on evading the swings of the heavy sword. The attacks she managed had no effect through the knight's armor. Her chances of victory were slim and getting no better.

Tai got a safe distance from the knight and studied him. It seemed that with all his armor, he had limited mobility and was rather slow, perhaps also an attribute of his age judging by his graying hair. But this had all been figured out before hand, and everyone else had died acting on this information alone. The problem was that the size of Dralt's sword allowed him a great range and he did have speed in wielding it. But without that sword the knight's skills as a fighter would probably be no better than any other man. If she could separate him from his weapon, then she would have a chance.

Running for the knight, she leapt into the air before him. When he lifted his blade to defend himself she kicked it to the side before attacking his head with the rest of her descent.

But before she could hit the ground all her planning was made for naught, as Dralt clutched his free hand around her throat. Lowering her to the ground and bending her over, he brought the hilt of the blade, still held in his right hand, down on her back. While she cried in pain he lifted her up again.

And it was at this moment that Tairene expected to die, but something strange happened. As she struggled with the knight's gauntlet around her neck, he looked deep into her eyes. His emerald eyes pierced her very being as she hung before him, waiting for him to decide her fate.

When his decision was made, he didn't run his sword through her heart. Instead he tossed her behind him where she collided with the wall and fell to the floor, hitting her head on the way down. Before the fog could completely enrapture her mind and pull her into unconsciousness, she was able to see her beloved master begin his battle with the knight.

Tai woke the next day as the bodies were being tallied. Only a select few that had challenged Dralt had survived, totaling at less than thirty. The dead numbered at over 200, though few that remained lamented the deaths of the hired killers who had come in from other kingdoms only in recent years and made up most of the death toll.

The ninjas who had been the last victims of the mad knight's wrath were neglected by their sole remaining member. She did take the time to kneel down and mourn the master who had taught her so much before his body was carted away and taken out with all the others. With so many dead, it was unfeasible to bury all of them before disease began to spread, and only a small number would actually receive a coffin and a grave. Hopefully, given her master's position, he would be among that number.

Beyond removing the dead and avoiding disease, there were other matters that required attention. Among those who had died were the higher ranking generals and advisors of the king, of which the rampaging knight had been both. These positions needed to be filled from what remained of the king's men. Since Tairene was the last of her master's students and had proven to be his best beforehand, she was the only option to take his position as head of intelligence. Though an honor, this title weighed heavy on her heart.

Far from the last thing to be dealt with, but certainly the most anticipated was the decision of what was to be done with the knight who had brought so much death to his own kingdom.

Having been rendered unconscious by a toxin, delivered by the late ninja master, and falling just before he could kill the king, he had been thrown into the castle dungeon. When Tyrann chose to see him, the knight was shackled and brought before the king on his knees.

Amongst those present for Dralt's trial were those who had been spared, by chance or by intention. Tai stood amidst this crowd and looked at those who had shared her fate. The knights who had once followed him could only stare in confusion at what he had become. The mercenaries were battered and broken. They could only assume that they were alive solely by the grace of God.

Meanwhile, Tairene had no such luxury. That man had stared into her soul and had chosen not to kill her. She could understand the survival of the knights who had been trained by Dralt, but he had never known her before that battle.

As she looked across the room at the man awaiting a decision on his fate, she repeated the same question in her mind many times over….. _"Why was I spared?"

* * *

_

The tears now freely flowed as the question hung in the air. All the pain of that day's bloody aftermath came surging through her as she cried for the first time over all that had been lost.

Dralt closed the distance between them and put a hand on her shoulder. When her tear soaked eyes looked up at him, he took a deep breath and gave her much needed answer. "When I looked into your eyes that day, I saw something few people in that castle had… regret." A confused expression came upon Tairene's face.

Seeking to better explain himself, the knight continued. "All those whom Tyrann kept close to himself had done terrible things under his command. Those unwilling to do so were of no use to him. Almost everyone who died that day had shown no signs of remorse for the things they did, nor pity for those they did them to.

"Within your eyes I say a different story. As you thought you were going to die, you looked back on what you had done. It was then I saw so much sadness over what it was you were called to do… and that you had not been able to do as you had intended. And_ that_ is why you survived that day. Because your soul proved better than the many who died."

Content with the answer to her question, Tairene silently nodded. The two of them began to walk together back to the clearing and they prepared for a new day.

* * *

_Author's Notes: So now you now... at least most of it. What, did you think I was gonna give you all the answers with 4 more chapters to go? I've got to give you something to keep reading for. If it's to figure out exactly what's going on instead of because you really like the story, then so be it. For those that didn't like Roren's lack of preparation, I'd like to note that my original idea involved a vision and I later thought it too silly and convenient. This turn of events is still convenient, but less silly. In the next chapter, we are going to see Razath as he is almost back at the village. But someone has taken an interest in slowing him down. Find out who and why in chapter 9. Please leave a review on your way, though._


	9. Soul of the Servant

_Author's Notes: We now draw ever closer to the end. All the remaining major events of this story take place within the same day. Razath starts off this day as someone tries to keep him from denying what they feel needs to happen... and should have happened when he took his new weapon. Let's see how that goes._

_Disclaimer: By now you should know that I don't own most of what this story is based on and I only tentatively claim what really is mine._

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**Chapter 9: Soul of the Servant**

Razath was nearly there. After traveling many miles from the castle, he now found himself within the great forest that surrounded the village he had destroyed years ago. Returning with Soul Edge, he would reopen the gate to hell and begin the days of Armageddon. What he didn't realize was that as the early morning light pushed through the treetops, someone had caught up with him after his encounter with Nightmare and was very interested in the new wielder of the blade she had pledged her servitude to.

A large bird swooped low between the trees and flew just in front of the demon. He watched as it circled around the trees and charged at him. Before he could defend himself the bird had already begun to claw at his face. When it stopped, it only flew to a nearby branch and sat there, eyeing the fiend it had angered.

It was at this moment that Razath realized that it was a trained bird. As such, it had been sent in as a distraction. His revelation came too late, however, as the bird's owner fell from her hiding place within the trees. Before hitting the ground, she planted her large ring-like blade into the dirt and swung through its center. Both of her feet connected with the demon's chin and sent him sprawling back while she delicately landed behind her weapon.

While Razath rubbed his aching jaw, the girl gave a small giggle, looking him up and down. She spoke in a deliriously happy tone of voice. "Ooooo… You really are the perfect body for Soul Edge. It's a pity you didn't let my master take control."

The demon regained his footing and gave his retort. "I have no use for a blade that will make a puppet of me." Looking at the girl who had caught him off guard, he realized that she was quite a small and frail human for a fighter.

She wore a tattered green outfit, exposing much of her torso and seeming to have been stitched with thick purple string. There was some form of body paint that had created two purple lines on her body: one across her face, passing just under her violet eyes, and another snaking around her uncovered stomach. Her messy hair almost matched the color of her outfit, but was mixed in with a bluish tone. Thick purple gloves made their way up to her shoulders with an ornament of feathers at each wrist. For someone of her diminutive size, she relied very little on armor, only choosing to cover up her lower legs.

A pout came over her face as she responded to the demon. "Aww, you think you actually have a choice. The spirit of Soul Edge needs a new body and it will come for whoever carries the blade."

Razath let out a single laugh with his reply. "HA! That spirit was destroyed before I left the castle."

The girl's eyes widened slightly in surprise before speaking. "Oh, I don't think you can get rid of him that easily. But that's beside the point. I'm going to stop you so that my master can catch up with us. Now…. " Her gleeful expression disappeared as her eyes narrowed and an overall sinister look came over her face. Her next words came in a much deeper, ragged voice. "Let's see just how dark your blood is."

While the demon pulled the scythe-like form of Soul Edge from his back, she leapt up onto her ring blade, which was still embedded in the ground. Her feet balanced on the steel before she rolled to the side and kicked it into the air when her back hit the soil. The ring spun in midair several times before gravity pulled it back down and it was kicked off again, this time in the direction of her opponent.

The blade arced back to its owner after the fiend stopped its approach with the staff of his weapon. She was on her feet in time to catch her ring as Razath made his advance.

The circular design of the girl's weapon made it ideal for deflecting incoming attacks, but as the battle wore on, the demon's strikes grew more and more fierce. Even with the scythe gliding along the ring's edge, its force was still pushing her back. When one impact even took her off her feet, an armored boot soon met with her stomach, sending her to the ground.

Desperately trying to breathe after such a crushing blow, the servant of Soul Edge could do little more than look up at the imposing figure standing over her. His eyes burned holes in her miniscule body as he raised his weapon over his head and prepared to end the girl. But before the scythe could fall, she regained her breath and let out a whistle.

Hearing its command, the bird still sitting on the branch took flight. With the first pass, its talons raked across the demon's face, effectively getting his attention. Continuing to circle the target, it would swoop in to scratch at high speeds or stop to peck at whatever was exposed.

Razath now realized the mistake of not killing the bird earlier when he discovered it to be a diversion… but he now intended to correct that mistake. Swinging his weapon through the air and hurling bolts of his energy in attempt to kill the feathered nuisance, he eventually succeeded in catching it in his left claw.

The bird struggled in vain as the demon's fingers were wrapped tightly around its ribcage. Those fingers began to clench into a fist at a maliciously slow pace. It gave out a few tortured shrieks before going silent and limp.

Though the bird was already dead, Razath took this opportunity to show its corpse to the girl before blasting it to pieces with a burst of his energy. He took great joy in the look on her face as she watched her pet be destroyed. But while he laughed at her pain, he missed the look of newfound strength in her eyes.

Springing up from the ground, she began to thrash about wildly with her bladed ring. This sudden attack took the demon by surprise and he received several cuts on his arms before he could raise a suitable defense. It seemed that for all the girl's frailty, she was still quite dangerous. Not wanting to fall so close to his mission's completion, Razath decided to make sure the odds of this battle were stacked in his favor.

As the large ring came at him again, the demon hooked the blade of his scythe into its center and wrenched it away from the girl. While it hung from the bony extension of his weapon, he tossed them both away from the field of battle. The servant of Soul Edge was now in an unarmed fight with an armored demon that towered over her small frame and could easily overpower her.

The only advantage the girl had was her agility, and she used it as best she could to avoid the fiend as he viciously swiped at her with his claws. Without her weapon, she could never hope to damage him without allowing herself to be caught. With this in mind she twisted and rolled out of her enemy's reach, gradually pushing toward the discarded blades. When the ring was close enough, she turned and attempted to dive for it.

Her leap did not get her far as she was stopped in midair when the demon firmly clasped his left hand around her ankle. She hit the ground with a brutal thud before being lifted up before him, hanging upside-down from her captured limb.

Razath took her throat in his right hand and released her leg, allowing her to hang properly. Holding her just in front of his face with her feet dangling over a foot off the ground he let a smile crawl over his face. His deep ethereal voice whispered loud enough for her to hear, "I have slaughtered many of you humans, but _you_ I will truly… **savor**." He laughed as her face began to show signs of fear, something absent from the earlier portions of the fight.

She tried to struggle as he lifted her as high as his arm would allow, but that just seemed to make him enjoy it all the more. With her exposed stomach hanging just in front of him, the demon's fiery eyes widened in anticipation of this kill. The claws of his left hand thrust into her torso, the blood trickling down his wrist, while she screamed in agony. Her scream did not last long, however, as his hand tore out through her side, bringing her insides out with it.

As her voice faded and her eyes rolled back in her head, Razath let out a great roar for his victim that soon turned into a bellowing laughter.

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_Author's Notes: This is my shortest chapter by a couple hundred words and below my usual standard. I would have liked to make it longer, but I don't want to do it for the sake of it. Also, there was very little to do to set up the fight and for the purposes of the next chapter, it needed to end where it did. Oh, and about the end of the fight, I probably should have given a warning to those wanting to avoid the gore, but that's by far the worst of it. Besides, we might have seen this happen to Yoshimitsu all those chapters ago if he hadn't been prepared/needed for future installments of the games. Anyway, next time we are going to set up for the big finale and hand out the last of the flashbacks (and reveal some things that most of you probably already figured out). I hope you enjoy what's left. Please leave a review._


	10. Soul of Destiny

_Author's Notes: It seems that nothing more stands in Razath's way, but where are our heroes? They are coming, but there are other warriors and they may stand to fight for what they seek. Today, many destinies will be decided._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. There, I said it._

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Chapter 10: Soul of Destiny

The three warriors stopped in their tracks as the feminine scream echoed through the forest. When it was followed by a deep roaring laughter, Roren's eyes went wide. "My god… It's still here." These words came under his breath, just barely loud enough for his companions to hear. Without giving them a chance to ask questions, he began to charge down the trail.

They eventually caught up to him as the path prepared to leave the forest. But before anyone could escape the cover of trees, a strange mechanical noise came to their attention. This noise was soon accompanied by a voice emanating from off the trail.

"Stop there," came the demand of the tall woman stepping into view. Her outfit seemed to cover only what was necessary, with white fabric lined with thick purple straps rising up from her thigh-high boots and snaking around her torso. Everything else was beneath a transparent nylon. Her right arm was covered with a long white glove that held fast to a sword, while her left arm was housed in a golden armor all the way down to her hand with the fingers resembling claws. The woman's eyes shined a bright turquoise from behind her pure white hair. The mechanical noise seemed to be coming from a small device in her armored hand, which was soon tossed to the ground.

The scantily clad swordswoman eyed the group she had been led to, until she came across the silk bundle on the young man's back. "You there, give Soul Calibur to me."

Roren was shocked that the woman had known about the sword, but his disbelief soon gave way to aggravation. "I don't have time for this. I need to keep moving."

"Then go," Tai said, pulling the kunais from her waist. Before he could ask her why, she spoke again. "Look, the sooner you get going, the sooner you slay your monster, and the sooner I can do what I need to do. Now GO!" Roren gave a nod in thanks before running down the trail out of the forest. Dralt stood in place for a few seconds, a proud grin on his face, before following after him.

The ivory haired woman tried to give chase but was promptly blocked by the ninja. Her anger was plainly written across her face as she shouted, "Get out of my way, you cur!"

Tairene did not back down. The woman did not scare her and she was prepared to fight. But there was a question nagging at the back of her mind. "Before you try to fight your way through me, let me know one thing. Why is it that you seek Soul Calibur when most warriors desire Soul Edge?"

The woman scoffed. "I've had quite enough of Soul Edge in my life. Because of it those I called my family, the ones who gave me the name of Ivy Valentine, were driven to madness and bankruptcy. Because of that sword my very birth and blood are tainted with evil…. But with Soul Calibur, I might be able to purify myself, to cleanse my blood. I've come too far to see that dream fail," she said, pointing her sword at Tai. "And I won't let a little tart like you stand in my way."

With those words, the battle to come could not be stopped. However, Tairene could see something of herself in the woman she fought; a life tainted, in some way, by evil, but the drive to do good things. The difference seemed to come in what they intended to do about that evil. While her opponent sought to remove the evil from herself, Tai would do everything she could to counterbalance it with good deeds. As the weapons began to clash, Tai's mind was on the first major step she took to that end.

* * *

After the trial and sentencing of the Mad Knight, Dralt, things began to improve within the kingdom of Ursprung. The king no longer waged his wars for more land and power. In fact, he even gave up some of his territories so that the small number of knights could better monitor it with minimal outside help. The many outlying villages now received more attention and their cries for help were answered when disaster struck.

Though these changes were for the better of the kingdom and all who resided within, everyone in the castle knew that this was not entirely of the king's own volition. It had been the last act they had seen of the Mad Knight. Even if the outcome had been righteous, Tairene still condemned the means by which he had achieved it.

She had now reached the position of power she had once strived for and, though it was not of her doing, the endless wars had stopped. She was actually quite happy with the state of things and intent on making sure that Tyrann did not slip back into his old ways.

Her title of Head of Intelligence was one of the higher positions in the kingdom. However, with the king now resisting the urges for war, there was far less need for information on their neighboring kingdoms. Even if this was the case, Tai moderated the information the king received to ensure he didn't receive an offer for power he couldn't refuse.

Several years into this work, Tai noticed one of her lower officers delivering a scroll to Tyrann. She had not ordered any mission to retrieve information. It would seem that the king was going over her head to get what he wanted. There was no telling how long he might have been doing this… at least, not without looking into his personal vault of important documents. She had to see what kind of information he was getting without her knowing.

Over the next several months Tairene spent her nights looking through the scrolls within the vault. Inside she saw several documents she recognized as those she had helped to steal from the various forts and castles Tyrann had intended to conquer. Only now did she get to see what they contained. Though the king had grudgingly given up his war path, it seemed that he had kept the information regarding the structural defenses of his fellow neighbors. While Tai did her best to dispose of these, she noticed that they were actually a small portion of the documents held there.

Many of the documents were on various rumors of powerful warriors. Tyrann seemed to have taken an interest in hiring these people for his own protection. Most had been rejected either out of conflicting morals or an inability to be controlled. Those that were considered further were either regarded as untrustworthy or had rejected the offer. These pieces of information had been gathered in the recent years and Tai could only wonder what could have sparked the interest in a powerful warrior to defend him when the knight who had almost killed him was gone.

What she read only seemed to get worse as she read more. There were records of people capable of dark magics and foul creations. Such perversions of nature had been researched in great detail. There were also list of various magical items, some of which were marked as having been collected and stored within the treasury.

Worst of all amongst these magically imbued items was the blade known as Soul Edge. At first, it didn't seem so bad, in fact, she had heard of it, though she had known it as the "Hero's Sword." There was more information on it, however, and it described a vicious entity bent on devouring the souls of man. From what Tai could tell Tyrann intended to use this power to gain power absolute.

An added page to these notes told tales of a potential threat to Soul Edge's power. Soul Calibur had been waging war with Soul Edge for longer than recorded history according to the documents. Though it was usually a holy weapon, it was noted that there was a brief period in which it had acquired an evil taint from Soul Edge. It had since regained its normal status, but even the potential for evil in such a powerful piece of magic was dangerous.

It scared Tai to realize that most of the information on these swords had been gathered in the years after the knight's attack, meaning that Tyrann had been planning its acquisition for some time. Perhaps he had been intrigued by the magic sword of the Mad Knight, and sought one of his own. But what scared her most was that the tale of these two blades was one of a truly eternal war with no victor and countless casualties to those involved. Many suffered from the very existence of these two living weapons that would not die. Tai resolved to renew her goal of ending an endless war by killing the magic blades; an act that would also keep them out of her still ruthless king and any other who wished to use them for the sake of power.

But such a deed required knowledge, planning, and powerful magic. Fortunately, she could find all three within the castle. Soul Calibur had been traced to a family line in China and was thought to be wielded by a woman who guarded the emperor. The plan within Tai's own mind was to use it in battle with Soul Edge so that she might weaken both blades to a point where she could dispose of both of them. The method for this would be through use of one of the magical relics she had noticed in her earlier searches.

An amulet of mystic inscriptions surrounding a purple gem of power, known as the Kraft talisman, was amongst the list of magical items. Apparently it had resided within the treasury since the inception of the kingdom several centuries ago. According to its record, it was to be used for draining magical power from people and items. It would then store this energy until its incantation was reversed and the magic was sent into a new host. But for Tairene's plan she would not need to transfer this power.

Waiting until the dead of night, Tai prepared for what was ahead… and what she was leaving behind. She donned the outfit she had spent much of her days training in, though with one small addition: a layer of chain mail underneath her gi, as she knew not what she might encounter on her journey. Returning to the information vault, she burned all the scrolls of information that Tyrann had been collecting. She walked away as this created a diversion and left the treasury wide open while she made her selective plunder.

Attaching the amulet to a cloth and fastening it around her neck, Tai made her way outside and took one last look at the castle before running off to begin her quest.

* * *

Dralt and Roren rushed out of the forest and onto the mountain trail. The rocky path was devoid of trees or other signs of life. For this they were thankful, as they wanted nothing to get in the way of the ferocious battle that was to come. The trail had just a few more turns before they arrived at what remained of the village. Just as it seemed that the path was widening before their destination, the sound of sliding rocks came up behind them and the two stopped.

Ahead was the outer wall of the village and the faint smell of smoke. Looking behind them, they saw a warrior with armor along his left arm and a katana tied to his waist by a large red rope. The man's face was unshaven and his hair was pulled back into a bushy ponytail of over a foot in length. Though the man had stopped in his course, his eyes went between the two before him and his right hand held fast to his blade.

Roren broke the silence. "Who are you, eastern warrior, and what is your business here?"

Fixing his glance on the youth, the man responded. "The name's Mitsurugi… and I come to do battle with Soul Edge. I carry a shard that tells me it lies just beyond that bend in the path."

Both the warriors were shocked at hearing that Soul Edge was within the village. Dralt seemed lost in thought at this before Roren spoke up again. "We have come to battle a monster in the village. Perhaps it is he who wields Soul Edge. However, if you wish to take that blade for yourself, then I cannot allow you to join our battle."

"And you intend to stop me, whelp?" Mitsurugi took a quick step to close the large gap between them.

"He won't have to," Dralt began, ending his silence, "because you'll have to get through me long before you face this one." Roren looked at the knight, surprised, before seeing him nod. At this, he turned to the village and ran off to complete his quest.

Before the samurai could begin to give chase, the purple armored guardian planted the tip of his massive blade into the ground. Mitsurugi would have to defeat the knight if he wished to pursue Soul Edge. As he began to draw out his katana, however, his opponent began to speak.

"Why do you seek that sword, warrior?"

Mitsurugi laughed. "Many seek the blade, knight, for its power is legendary… and you would ask me why I journey after it?" Dralt remained silent. "Hmph. Very well then." The samurai cleared his throat. "After many years of war and constant battle, I have grown bored with the weak warriors that come after me. They all fall too easily and provide me no challenge. Entire armies, even those wielding the new weapons, rifles, have failed to cut me down and fallen to my blade. And so I hope to find someone that might be a worthy test of my skills. I believe that whoever wields Soul Edge would be just such a test, and when I carry it after my victory, many strong warriors will come after it. In this way, my abilities will be constantly tested."

Dralt stared at the samurai before giving his reply. "So you seek a powerful warrior, a challenge to your skills." He tightened the grip on his hilt and used his free hand to motion his opponent to move in. "Then I shall be your challenge. Come and get me!"

Mitsurugi sneered and held his sword at the ready. "If you're going to stand in my way… you're dead."

And as the samurai moved in to start the battle, Dralt felt a degree of pity for him. The man had lost himself to the thrill of battle and could not enjoy the time of peace or find the embrace of a warrior's death. Worse still, if he continued on his current path, he would lose his very soul to the object of his desire. All this reminded Dralt of when he, too, had been so very lost and had almost given up his life so that he might find tranquility within his own soul.

* * *

Finding himself within the castle dungeon after his rampage, his armor still coated with blood, Dralt's senses and sanity returned to him. And with these came the realization and guilt of what he'd done. Time passed slowly as he sat within his prison… alone with his thoughts, his actions, and his failures.

Almost a week had passed before Tyrann sent for him, replacing his cage with shackles. Neither was necessary as Dralt had lost his will to fight and did not wish to bring any more harm.

Dralt was half dragged through the castle before being set on his knees in the middle of the throne room. Before him, sitting in the very seat of power he had nearly died in, was Tyrann, his right arm in a sling. To the king's left and right were those who had survived the massacre.

Looking between them, Dralt saw the castle knights who were thinking of what could have caused such madness. He saw the few remaining mercenaries who were thinking of how much they despised him. And lastly, he saw a young woman who didn't seem to know what to think. His eyes returned to the king as the proceedings began. "Dralt: knight who once served my father and has now betrayed his kingdom, how do you explain your action?"

Dralt straightened himself as best he could with his restraints before giving his answer. "I was acting under a madness induced by my failure to fulfill my final obligation to your father. He told me to do what I could to advise you and guide you on the proper path. He wanted you to become a compassionate king… and desperately wanted to avoid what you've become."

Tyrann gave a slight laugh. "You do well to speak of madness and 'compassionate' kings together. My father was a fool to hold such ideals so high when a king need only do what might increase his power."

The chained knight hung his head low before giving his calm, yet defeated response. "You're wrong. Regardless of what you believe, a king _does_ have an obligation to his people. Your fa-"

A fist slamming onto the arm of the throne interrupted him. "Enough of this nonsense! We are not here to discuss what you believe my failings to be nor what my father expected of me. We are here to decide your fate." He paused and let this hang in the air. "Now, 'good knight'… give me one good reason why you should be allowed to live."

Dralt sighed heavily before looking into the king's eyes and giving the honest truth. "Because were I to be executed, it would be among the last things you do during your reign as king."

A gasp circled the room. Tyrann stood and pointed with his good arm. "You threaten me even now, old man?!"

Dralt shook his head. "This is no threat. I merely speak the truth of the matter, which is that if you kill me now, the people of this kingdom will rise up against you."

The king scoffed and sat back down in his throne. "And what makes you believe that?"

"I've told you many times to consider the needs of the people, but your concerns have always been for your own gain. But as you took more power and land, those under your rule were subjected to the terror of your wars. And when those you took from chose to fight back, I was there to defend the villages and farms, along with many of the knights in this room, and those you keep far away from this castle. I have been there to protect the people where you neglected to and have become a hero to them in the process. The execution of a hero by the king they despise will not be taken lightly… and can only lead to rebellion."

Tyrann quietly rubbed his chin as he considered this possibility. "If the people rise up against me then I will strike them down and let them know their place."

The knight's rebuttal came quickly. "With what army? Look around. You're all out of mercenaries who will do whatever you ask and have no connection to the people. Those that are still alive are in no condition to fight and may never be again. All you have left are the knights who were born and raised within the kingdom and I doubt you could convince them to turn on their family and friends. When the people rise, you will have no protection."

The king stared hard at Dralt before slamming his fist on his throne. "All right. You shall not die within this kingdom, but you shall not live here either. These knights will take you to the edge of my domain where you will be released and henceforth banished."

Shocked, Dralt sat there on his knees at the realization that he would never see his home again. Two knights came to his side and brought him to his feet before leading him to the hall. Several steps before they could reach it, however, they were interrupted by the king.

"One more thing." When Dralt turned around he say Tyrann snap his fingers. Seconds later a servant brought out the sword used during the rampage. "There is still the matter of what is to be done with this." He grabbed the hilt as the servant guided its tip to the ground.

Dralt took the opportunity to try to fulfill some portion of his promise to Krieser. "Your father wanted you to have that blade when I felt you were ready for it."

Tyrann nodded and examined the sword. "Well I can see why. It's a marvelous creation, obviously powerful, and certainly befitting of a king." Before Dralt could correct him on his father's reason, Tyrann released the hilt and let it clatter to the floor. He then addressed the knights in the room. "When you set him loose, give him the sword and send him on his way. I never want to see either of them again."

These were the last words Dralt heard from the king before being taken out of the castle and to the edge of the kingdom. Only then were his shackles removed and the royal blade returned to his hands. As he took his first steps of banishment, he turned briefly to get his last look at his home of Ursprung.

Dralt's time in exile was spent in the forests and mountains of the world, far away from society. Though he had been able to justify the slaughter in his madness and gotten through his trial with his life, his now sane mind could not wash the blood from his hands. He no longer felt fit for civilization.

As he kept himself away from the people of the world, Alondite ensured he would not die by natural means. Time seemed to have no effect on him and he no longer aged. The blade even gave him energy and he needed little sustenance.

But even with all these boons, Dralt had no will to continue on and no purpose to drive him. Despite this, however, he could not end himself with one swift action. He needed a place where he could slowly drift into death. He had been wandering for over 4 years when he found the desert canyon and he had been waiting there for several months when a young man found him there.

After his defeat at the hands of his savior, Dralt carried him through the canyon and out of the desert. The young man woke the next day to find himself in new surroundings and his wounds treated and healing nicely, though a fair-sized scar had begun to develop under his eye.

Dralt approached him in this state, introduced himself and said that, as agreed, he would help him on his journey. After hearing the boy's name, he was told of his quest to slay an evil creature that had destroyed his entire village. During this telling, Dralt saw a mirror to his own terrible deed. He found a new purpose in the belief that if he could help his new companion to slay this demon… he might be able to get rid of his own.

* * *

Leaving his companions behind, Roren raced on to face his destiny alone. That voice, that laughter, he had heard it all before. The fact that it had been so closely accompanied by a scream made him all the more certain that the demon he had vowed to kill was just beyond the dilapidated village wall before him.

Every bit of pain and hardship he had suffered in his seven-year journey came to the forefront and would be his fuel and fire in the battle ahead. Ignoring the lone gate he knew was just around the bend, Roren made short work of climbing the crumbling structure and took in the sight of what was once his home.

Razath had made his way back to the village by winding through the forest without a trail to follow and then climbing the mountainside. Upon reentering the ruins, he noticed that very little had changed during his time away. The burnt homes remained in the same shattered position. Skeletal remains marked where the many bodies had fallen.

The only real change was that the massive hole he had dug to view his crystalline prison had collapsed in on itself over the years. But the layer of dirt was thin and it only took a moment or two of digging to reacquaint himself with that which he had journeyed far and wide to destroy. Standing over its now exposed center, the demon raised Soul Edge above his head and prepared to bring it down and shatter the crystal.

A noise broke his concentration as he looked to find its source. What he found was a shuriken cutting through the air in his direction. Letting the scythe fall to the side, he fired a bolt of energy at the projectile, shattering it in midair only a few feet from where he stood. Growling at what appeared to be one final obstacle in his path, Razath soon laid his eyes on the warrior who now opposed him.

* * *

The village had been a place of peace, kept separate from the rest of the world. It was founded high on a mountainside and the mountain itself was surrounded by a vast forest. To further distance themselves from the rest of man, a great wall had been erected around it with a lone gate allowing exit and entry.

Many of the people who lived there had either found it while seeking respite from the outside world or descended from someone who had. The reason so many who entered chose to stay was because of the great sense of goodness generated by the people there. Each of the individual villagers deeply cared for all the others in the village, a trait one may have been hard pressed to find in the nearby kingdoms. It was in this environment that Roren had been raised in; a world devoid of hatred, crime, and all the other evils of human nature. That all changed, unfortunately, when he turned 15.

A young man by most standards, he was now to take part in the hunt. The extended family of the village depended on the meat gathered by the young men, along with what food could be grown nearby, to feed everyone from the toddlers to the seniors. It would be a large responsibility for Roren, but it was one he was ready to shoulder. With only a day left until he would join the hunting party, he spent his time carving the bow he would use to feed the village.

As the victorious hunters returned to the walls of the village, a slight tremor pulsed through the ground. Roren had been standing in the stone archway, watching the hunters as they entered, and staggered as this happened. Before anyone could question what had happened a great, primal roar erupted from the earth beneath them.

Many of the people now began to panic, some making their way toward the village's only exit. Roren could only stand perplexed at the rumbling he felt beneath his feet. He was unable to move, despite every nerve telling him to.

Eventually a form burst up through the ground, tossing Roren backwards through the gate. He lay there, dazed and unsure of what was happening. At this moment, one of the villagers got down beside him and tried to raise him to his feet so they could escape. It was unfortunate timing, however, as the creature from beneath the soil shot crystal shards from off his back, many embedding themselves into Roren's helper. The body collapsed on top of him. For all the shock he had already experienced, he could hardly breathe now.

After regaining his senses, Roren pushed the cadaver off of himself and rose to his feet. Looking back through the archway, the monster that had risen from the earth came into his sight. He saw its armored form standing before the huddled mass of the many villagers who had not escaped. It faced its red palms toward the homes on either side, before shouting to the heavens, "I am the demon warrior, Razath, and all here shall suffer for my long imprisonment!"

As fire burst from the demon's hands and lit the village ablaze, new emotions began to rise within Roren. For the first time anger coursed through his veins. For the first time he felt hatred towards something. For the first time the need for vengeance was known to him.

And as all these dark feelings made their presence within Roren's system, he was watching as the red-skinned demon walked through the flames of his own creation to slaughter the people that had been his family. As such, all his anger, hatred, and newfound vicious nature were pointed directly at the fiend.

Despite the need to kill the creature, Roren would not be blinded by his bloodlust. The demon wore armor and wielded a scythe and magic as his weapons. Roren carried no weapon, nor did he have any training to use one if he did. He would need to make himself strong and wield a weapon capable of slaying the evil that had, in so short a time, destroyed everything he had cared for. He vowed to find the demon someday and destroy it, but only when he was strong enough.

Before leaving on his quest, Roren decided to take a token of his vow. Looking to the dead man who had tried to help him escape, he saw the shards in his back. They had been connected to the fiend and were meant to kill him… an excellent reminder. Taking the shards from the body and storing them in his shirt, Roren hurried down the mountain and through the forest to the sound of the terrible screams of those he had sworn to avenge.

* * *

Razath could see the absolute fury in the man standing on the stone wall. Pure hatred was shining in his eyes and seemed to pierce the fiend's armor. Without losing any of this ferocity to his gaze, the warrior in green tossed his sword behind himself and stepped off the wall and into the ruined village.

The demon was confused and laughed at the man's actions. "Ready to die so easily? Not willing to fight without the element of surprise?"

Roren took a few steps forward before addressing the monster that had caused the destruction he now stood in. "Oh, I'm not ready to die yet. I've waited a long time to kill you, and nothing's gonna stop me now." He breathed heavily, preparing for the fight that was coming. "You destroyed every one and everything that made me a good person; someone who wouldn't even have considered the things I've done to stand here now. But those things were all worth the cost if they'll allow me to see you die today."

"Oh, were you one of the few survivors," the demon asked with a mock sympathy as he looked around at the carnage he created long ago. When his eyes returned to the warrior, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Well, if you lived here then it's about time you learned the…'terrible'… truth. I _was_ what made you a good person."

Doing his best not to allow his long-held fury give way to any emotion, Roren could not suppress the seed of confusion that had been sown. "What are you talking about?"

"I was trapped in this mountainside for centuries before your village was even founded. I was only able to keep myself going those long years by draining the dormant evil of whatever made its way above me. And you humans are so good at acquiring evil it made my escape so much easier. I imagine that with all the negative energies being constantly drained from the people here, they must have nearly been saints. All too unfortunate that their good nature was thanks to a demon."

Roren was very much surprised to hear the real reason his people's lives had been so idyllic… but it didn't change the facts. This fiend had slaughtered the people he grew up with, destroyed the home he had lived in. The only difference was that he now knew that they had all been used for a vile purpose in the many years before and it was just another thing to make his anger grow. He clenched his teeth and barked out the words, "For everyone who died in this village, and anyone else you've made to suffer, I have sworn to kill you and by the time the sun sets I intend to have fulfilled that promise."

The demon snarled at the declaration of his opponent. "It matters not how strong your resolve if you have thrown away your weapon… not that the blade you've forsaken would stand any chance against… this." With that, he held his scythe in front of him. "Behold the power of Soul Edge in its rightful place, in the hands of a true evil."

The young man stared at the fleshy components of the dark blade he had once considered wielding. He was now all the more certain that he had made the right choice on his quest. Pulling the silk bundle from his back he spoke. "I have not forsaken the weapon that will be your demise, demon." As the blade was uncovered it began to shine brightly. When Roren took the hilt that shine turned into a blinding light as it made its transformation.

The light dimmed to reveal Soul Calibur's new form. In Roren's right hand the blade had narrowed in width and lengthened by almost a third. One of its sides extended past the disconnected opposing side. It then curved back until it was even with the back edge. In Roren's left hand was a shuriken forged out of the same light blue steel. It consisted of 2 concentric rings with 8 prongs between them, holding it together. On the edge of the outer circle were 8 triangular blades pushing out from the inner prongs.

With the holy weapon now ready, Roren pointed the tip of his sword at the demon. "And so Soul Calibur takes _its_ rightful place… opposing Soul Edge and its wielder." Razath let out an angered roar and they both prepared for battle.

* * *

_Author's Notes: So much to talk about, so little... actually there are no restrictions here, but I just don't have it in me to discuss it all. If there's anything in particular you want to know, leave a review and I'll respond as quickly as able. The next chapter is all fight and I'm excited to see what everyone thinks. Until next time..._


	11. Soul of Battle

_Author's Notes: Ladies and gentlemen, we have a wonderful card for you tonight. Our first match features the peace-seeker, Tairene, in a battle with Countess Ivy Valentine in the midst of the forest. In the middle of the card we have the Mad Knight, Dralt, duking it out with Heishiro "The One Man Army" Misturugi on the mountainside. And, for the main event, Roren seeks his vengeance on the demon warrior, Razath, in the charred remains of the village where both their stories began. The fate of the world rests on these outcomes, so without further ado (save a nod to Michael Buffer)... Lllllet's get ready to RUMBLE!! (It should be noted that, contrary to what is stated above, the fights are not kept separate in their individual entirety)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters that actually appear in the games and I don't own the rights to the universe as a whole. I borrowed them to tell a story. I'm sure you forgive me._

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* * *

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Chapter 11: Soul of Battle

Tairene and the swordswoman circled around each other. Both were eager to be done with this fight, but were smart enough to size up their opponent before charging in headlong. When enough had been learned, they stopped their pacing simultaneously and gripped their weapons tightly.

The battle began as Ivy stepped forward and slashed her sword at the ninja. Each blow was either dodged or diverted with the use of the kunais. At the time of counter attack, however, the ivory haired mistress was not unprepared, tossing aside the incoming strikes with her weapon or letting them scratch against the armor of her left arm. This continued for a while, with the two women seeming equally matched and neither gaining any ground. Each would be superior for only a fraction of a second before being forced to defend themselves.

The taller woman was growing tired of this back and forth when one of her downward strikes was caught between her opponent's two small weapons. Before she could try to pull it back a kick to her stomach sent her sprawling to the ground, taking her weapon with her.

Breathing heavily from the constant motion of the past few moments, Tai looked down at the fallen swordswoman in her momentary victory. "Why don't you hurry up and disappear?"

Getting back to her feet, Ivy wiped her non-metallic sleeve across her mouth. "Cheeky little girl. If it's that easy for you… then let's make it a challenge." At this she twisted the hilt of her sword. The blade began to separate into many sections, all connected to the hilt by a single cable. When this process was complete and most of her weapon lay in the dirt, she raised her arm and proceeded to crack the metal string like a whip.

Tairene could do nothing more than look on in surprise at this weapon's transformation. She'd had enough trouble defending against the standard sword. There was little time to dwell on what her new line of defense would be as the blade came slicing through the air.

* * *

Dralt's clash with Mitsurugi began as the samurai began to charge at him. When their swords first met a loud clang sounded though the air while each tried to push the other away. Neither was entirely successful, only causing their blades scrape against each other.

With the power struggle proving fruitless, the warriors broke apart and put some distance between themselves. A simple brawl would not work given their respective skills and strength, so there would need to be more strategy than just blocking the incoming strikes. Adjusting the grip on their weapons, they prepared to attack again.

Mitsurugi gathered himself first and raised his katana above his head as he quickly stepped forward. When the blade cut downwards, it met with only air. The knight had stepped aside as the strike came down. He had also spun himself around, taking his sword with him to build up momentum for a horizontal swing. Alondite swept across as shoulder height, but the samurai had managed to crouch low while it passed overhead.

With the swing done, Mitsurugi leapt up and twisted around to catch the side of Dralt's helm with his heel. Upon impact, the knight allowed much of his sword's weight to tip toward the ground. As such, when the samurai returned to his feet he had landed on the flat of his opponent's shimmering blade.

Dralt wasted little time in taking advantage of this positioning. He pulled at the handle and tilted his sword upwards; forcing the Japanese warrior to roll off of it and tumble onto the stony ground. Despite the fall, the samurai was quick to return to his feet. When he did so, he raised his katana beside his face and held it parallel to his gaze. Charging at the knight, his blade was thrust forward.

Mitsurugi's attack was unsuccessful as the knight's sword was dragged across the ground to deflect it, while his own momentum kept him moving forward. At this moment Dralt's free hand got ahead of his opponent and he managed to smash the back of his gauntlet into the samurai's face.

While Mitsurugi stumbled back, Dralt called after him. "Come on, whelp. You can do better than that." This incensed the warrior as he turned to face his opponent with a new vigor and in intent on making sure the knight could not degrade him again.

* * *

Roren and the demon were trading swings at an incredible rate. Each had come so close to the fruition of their goals that neither would give an inch. While the village's avenger was able to dodge the scythe's edge, causing it to pass by mere inches from his skin, Razath merely allowed the blade to scratch against his unholy armor.

Seeing that his attacks were having no affect on his opponent's massive chest plate, Roren hesitated for one brief second. It was all the time the demon warrior needed to grab his shirt by the collar and lift him up before tossing him as hard as he could across what was once the village square.

Unwilling to be disposed of so easily, the airborne warrior put a hand to the ground before his body could hit it and used the shift in momentum to spring back to his feet. Though he had managed to avoid damage thus far, Roren realized that the demon's armor still posed a serious problem. It would need to be dealt with if he wanted to win this battle.

Razath watched as the young man took the weapon from off his back and threw it across the distance between them. The hellspawn brought his scythe low and swung it up to deflect the projectile, sending it twirling above his head. His focus was not on the shuriken for long as its wielder began to charge him. When the human had almost reached him the demon readied his scythe to catch him in the side.

As Soul Edge swung through the air, Roren disappeared from view. He returned to the realm of sight almost 10 feet above his enemy. While there he took hold of the airborne shuriken with his left hand. Beginning to fall, he moved his arms to a crossed stance, putting the two weapons close to either shoulder as a slight glow appeared on them both. Passing by the demon in his descent, he slashed the weapons across, cutting through the armor and creating a large 'X' in it.

While the fiend recoiled from the effects of the attack, the young man retreated to a safe distance. Razath looked down at the ruined armor of his chest before angrily ripping out the upper middle section by his collar. "If this isn't going to protect me, then let's get rid of it," he yelled as he began to tear off the various sections of his upper armor. As each piece left his grasp and collided with the ground they burst into ashes. When he was done, his muscled form was revealed and a brightly glowing rune could be seen over the spot where any other creature would keep its heart.

Roren could only look on in confusion at this behavior before the demon turned his gaze back at him and began to charge.

* * *

Tairene was doing everything she could to avoid the sword-turned-whip that her ivory haired opponent was bringing against her. With every swing she managed to contort herself out of its path or dive behind a tree so that it might take the damage meant for her. This constant evasion, however, was becoming tiresome.

But there was also something… 'more' to the weapon she was so desperately trying to avoid. It seemed to go beyond what it was physically commanded to do through its owner's actions. At times it would arc its path to better chase its target. It seemed capable of holding tight to the trees it wrapped around and then quickly releasing with nothing to force it off. This was the work of some strange magic.

Regardless of whether the woman's sword was alive or not, the ninjutsu warrioress would need to get past it if she wanted to go back on the offensive. She soon decided that it would be best to bring herself closer to the woman, since the whip-like nature of her weapon gave her an advantage mostly at longer ranges. At the next opportunity, she rolled under a powerful swing and returned to her feet in range to strike.

Ivy was having trouble defending herself at close range while her weapon was in its separated state. There was no chance to build up movement for a suitable strike before she, herself, was attacked. She tried to keep the strikes glancing off her armored appendage or, when the situation called for it, gripping a section of her weapon's cable and using the tethered line to block the eastern weapons.

Tai continued the assault against her opponent. None of the blows were landing, but she was in control of the fight. She used that control to decide where and how the other woman made a strike.

Spinning a kunai in her right hand, she reared it back as if preparing to swing it. When the pale woman shifted to defend against the incoming strike, Tai spun in the opposite direction, lifting a leg to catch her across the side of the face. The impact spun her almost all the way around.

While Ivy was dazed from the kick to her head, the lithe form of her opponent attached to her. The ninja's arms wrapped around her waist, trapping her left arm against her side. Then, through the use of a ninjutsu magic, both were rocketed up and began twisting through the air. When they reached a height of about 20 feet, their ascent slowed and they began to tilt so they would fall to the ground head first.

Unwilling to allow herself to be defeated and realizing that this slow moment was her only chance to escape, Ivy swung her free arm and sent her weapon out to wrap around a thick branch nearby. When gravity pulled the two of them down the taller woman was ripped from the ninja's grasp midway through their descent.

Tairene began to fall awkwardly after her technique was broken out of. She just barely managed to land on her feet before rolling to divert the energy of her landing.

Meanwhile, the pale woman's sword was slowly extending, allowing her to place her feet delicately on the ground while she landed. Tai raised her weapons and prepared to defend herself again, but as the whip-like weapon fell after releasing the tree branch it was sent forward and wrapped around the kunais. After a brief struggle, they were torn from the ninja's hands and tossed deep into the forest.

Now forced to fight unarmed, Tairene would need to be especially careful. She could no longer stop the incoming attacks if she was unable to avoid them. Her martial arts training would have to make due for the weapons she had lost.

* * *

The Japanese and German knights circled each other, seeking some fatal flaw in the other's defense that they might exploit.

During this break in the fight, Dralt took a moment to address his opponent. "I fear that I must warn you that the blade you seek is tainted with great evil and will possess its wielder."

Mitsurugi huffed and charged at the old man. While their blades held between them in another power struggle, he replied to the claim. "I know of the sword's tendencies. I have learned much about it in my years searching for it. However, I believe that my skill and resolve will allow me to retain myself when the time comes for it to control me." As these last words left his lips, he slid his sword down and tried to thrust it under the knight's weapon.

Dralt stepped aside as the katana moved to pierce his armor. He twisted around before swinging his blade up to bat the samurai away. After his opponent had left the ground he rested the sword on his shoulders. "And you would succeed where all others have failed? You think too highly of yourself. Know your limitations before you try to exceed them."

The samurai would have no more of this talk as he returned to his feet and ran towards the knight. Meanwhile, Dralt tipped his shoulders and tried to force his blade down on top of his charging opponent.

Mitsurugi managed to see the attack coming before it hit him. He dove forward and rolled behind his enemy while Alondite crashed into the ground. Knowing that the knight would be able to bring the large blade around to defend himself, the samurai drew his sword back in preparation to thrust into the violet armor.

Before Dralt could be hit, however, he shifted the grip on his blade and dragged it across the ground until he had driven its hilt into the warrior's chest. The sudden blunt impact caused Mitsurugi to double over, holding the area with his free arm. The knight then lifted a leg and kicked the samurai aside.

While Mitsurugi labored to return to his feet, Dralt spoke again. "Perhaps you should not rely so heavily on the legend of a sword and instead focus on creating your own legend. Besides, how could you hope to defeat Soul Edge when you can do nothing against a blade of lesser legend," he asked as he indicated Alondite.

The samurai's face donned a look of confusion. "What madness do you speak, old man?"

The knight shook his head and replied, "This is a sword blessed by saints and wielded by royalty. This Blade of Kings gives an 'old man' the strength to continue on… and defeat proud warriors such as yourself."

Mitsurugi was shocked by what he heard. The blade made the knight a powerful warrior, but also made him the worthy opponent the samurai had long been searching for. It would be an honor to defeat this man, but if he wanted to do so he would need to fight much smarter than he had as of yet. Standing tall, he began to back himself toward the narrow path that curved around the mountain.

Dralt began to move after him, but stopped when he realized that the samurai was going in the opposite direction of the village where Soul Edge now was. The knight needed to make a decision; he could continue his fight with the proud Japanese warrior or he could try to help his companion in his battle.

When his decision was made he turned to the village and thought, 'The boy needs to take care of his demons on his own…' Turning back to the samurai who had disappeared around the bend, he continued his thought, '… as do I.'

And with that, Dralt charged after Mitsurugi.

* * *

Without the added weight and constriction of his armor Razath proved much faster and more agile. His strikes continuously pushed the young man back and any attacks brought against him were nimbly evaded.

Roren was quickly losing ground and in a constant retreat from the demon's onslaught. He could hardly keep up with Soul Edge as he tried to defend against it. His attempts to counter attack were fruitless as his sword either met with the scythe's staff or nothing but air as the surprisingly flexible fiend managed to twist out of harm's way.

Eventually Roren tried to turn the bout into a battle of distance. He then watched as the rune at the demon's chest spread out to his shoulder and down to his free hand before firing out a bolt of energy. The young warrior was now forced to run and jump and roll as he desperately avoided his enemy's projectiles with no chance to send his own. When the opportunity arose he returned to the hellspawn's side and continued the battle at close range.

Even in the relative safety of the close quarters combat, it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake in the midst of the demon's endless barrage. That mistake came when he attempted to lock the legendary weapons together while he tried to devise a battle strategy.

Razath shifted the staff of his scythe to cause the young warrior to fall forward and to knock him in the side of the head. The attack disoriented Roren and his newfound momentum had him fall forward and roll onto his stomach. The demon then dug the bony blade of his weapon into the ground beneath his opponent's chest hooking either end of the curve under the arms. He used this as a hook to quickly lift his enemy up and swing him around before he slid off the scythe's edge and was thrown through the air.

Roren screamed in pain, his conscious mind returning to him as the blade raked across his chest. That scream was cut short, however, as he hit the ground. He chaotically rolled several times before finally stopping on his back. Whilst lying there, the tip of the shuriken formed out of Soul Calibur was being pushed up by the ground until it met with the crystal shards at his shoulders. After a second or two this began to have a reaction and the crystals in contact with the holy weapon began to grow.

When Roren regained the ability to stand after a moment's rest, he returned to his feet and stood as tall as he could. As he did so Razath took notice of the formation sprouting from the young warrior's shoulders. It didn't take him long before he recognized them for what they were. Pointing a clawed finger at his opponent, he began to shout, "You carry with you the crystals of those infernal sages?!"

Roren looked around and took notice of the shards' transformation for the first time. He addressed the demon, "I carry these with me because they were almost the death of me and were a constant reminder of my intent to kill you. Who are these sages you speak of?"

Razath was so infuriated at seeing a portion of his prison come back to haunt him that he did not think to keep his mouth shut. "Those sages wove their holy magic to create those crystals and imprison me." He continued to rave on within the confines of his mind while his enemy decided on a new plan of action.

Thinking on what had caused the crystals to grow in the first place, Roren pulled the shuriken from his back. Pushing both portions of his arsenal against his shoulder he got them in contact with as many of the shards as possible. In a matter of seconds he got the reaction he was hoping for.

As the crystals grew they began to spread across the young warriors outfit, molding an armor around his body. When it came to his torso it applied pressure to the wound at his chest. After most of Roren's body had been covered a thick thread of many colors began to weave its way through the crystal, wrapping around his limbs and creating a circular design on his front and back.

With the transformation complete, Roren returned his weapons to their proper position and prepared to face the demon in his new battle armor.

* * *

Tairene continued to roll and leap out of the way of the path of her opponent's weapon. When she was allowed close enough she kicked at legs and arms and whatever else she could, but with little success in giving her an advantage. By this time both women were tired and trying to find a way to quickly take the other out before they completely ran out of energy.

During a brief lapse in the ninja's attacks Ivy managed to wrap the sectional blade around Tai's waist in an attempt to subdue her. The sharp edges tore through her shirt and dug into the chain mail kept beneath it. Unable to escape from its clutches, she was brought closer and closer to the woman who intended to finish her off.

Giving up on simply trying to pull herself free, Tai jumped forward, landing only a few inches from the ivory haired woman and slackening her restraints. She then leaned back, put a hand to the dirt and pushed her feet off the ground as hard as she could, kicking the swordswoman several times while her lower body rose. During this modified handspring, she also managed to twist around on her planted hand. When her feet touched the ground again she was no longer entangled in her opponent's weapon.

There was little time for a sense of freedom, however, for as soon as Ivy had recovered her blade shot out and wrapped itself around another portion of Tai's body; this time encircling her wrists several times and binding them together. Though still protected by her mail armor, she would not be able to escape the sword-whip's tightening grip. With a quick tug on the cable, she was taken off balance and brought down to one knee.

The ninja breathed heavily as she tried to think of how she could get out of this situation. None of the techniques she had tried had worked in taking the woman down. Not that that especially mattered since almost none of the things she hadn't tried would work in her current position… almost none.

The one technique that called for a crouched stance and cupping the hands together was also the one technique she had never mastered. It had failed her, or perhaps her it, in her last attempt when her life was on the line, but maybe now she would be capable with so many problems from her past put at ease as well as having others to fight for now. It could be done; however, it would require every bit of her concentration.

Closing her eyes and slowing her breathing, Tairene focused the energy within herself. She pulled at her restraints until her hands were down beside her waist. The necessary words came under her breath as she prepared to transfer the energy coursing through her body into her hands where she would release it.

Meanwhile, Ivy looked on in confusion before choosing to disregard the ninja's actions. "Open your eyes, knave, and face the inevitable," she said, stepping closer. When she was only a few feet away she gave a sharp pull on her weapon.

With that, Tairene's eyes opened wide and a ball of fiery energy finally appeared in the palms of her hands. Pushing her arms forward, a massive tongue of flame shot out and blasted the swordswoman back, forcing her to release her blade while she lost consciousness. As the fire dissipated, the sectional weapon loosened and fell to the ground.

Tai managed to stumble for a few steps before collapsing against a tree. She had expended almost every bit of energy she had with that last attack, but the immense pride she attained in finally overcoming the obstacle more than made up for it. Gathering a few breaths, she prepared to chase after her companions.

Looking over to the woman she had managed to defeat, she found her sprawled across the forest floor, unconscious but very much alive. This was to be expected as the technique was not meant to be a killing blow. It used a spectral fire that damaged the spirit, but not the body and had been designed as a means of taking out an enemy without damage to them or the surrounding area. The woman would be fine and would likely awaken the next day no worse for the wear.

After a moment or two of thinking on her downed opponent, Tairene had regained her breath and darted along the path.

* * *

The path that the samurai was leading Dralt on was barely wide enough to fit a person's natural stance while standing across it. There was an imposing rock wall on one side and a sheer drop on the other. Nonetheless, the knight continued to charge after his opponent.

Mitsurugi stopped as he reached a point in the path that was relatively without a curve. His enemy was close behind and the battle would resume shortly.

Dralt's steps were unsteady as he approached the samurai. He would have to choose his motions carefully as a step in the wrong direction or a hard bump against the wall could lead to an untimely plummet. To make the situation even more dire, he would not be able to swing his large, heavy sword as he usually would, given the mass of stone beside him.

When they were within reach of each other, the gap between them no longer narrowed while they stared into the eyes of the man they faced. Both had placed something personal on the line for this battle. One had wagered his honor as a fighter and the pride he had always carried with him. The other had staked a portion of his redemption on biding as much time as he could and doing his best to change the fighter's ways. They blinked in unison and the duel began anew.

The samurai's blade struck fast and hard, not as restricted by the situation. Though Dralt was unable to provide a suitable counter offense, he was able to hold his sword in front of himself to shield against the incoming attacks. His only attack from this position came in the form of a low thrust into the ground. It did not go as planned.

Mitsurugi managed to jump up while the sword tried to cut at his legs. For the second time he landed on the flat of the oversized blade. This time, however, he was able to attack before he could be pushed off. Swinging the katana up, he cut through the armor of the forearm raised in defense, drawing blood. Letting the momentum of the strike carry him upwards, he rose into the air and twisted around before slashing downwards. The power of this motion caused him to flip over and gave him two strikes: the first knocking off the knight's helm, sending it off the cliff, and the second splitting his cape down the middle.

Dralt's opponent now stood behind him. Ignoring the pain in his wrist, he took his sword in both hands and swung it around with as much power as he could muster. He just barely missed as the samurai fell back to avoid the blow. Alondite embedded itself in the stone wall at shoulder height. Crouching low, Mitsurugi tried to take advantage of the situation by charging under the blade with a thrust of his own.

At this moment the knight loosened his sword from the wall and let it drop on the samurai. The impact forced him to the ground in mid thrust, but he quickly tried to push himself up and get the heavy weapon off his back. Dralt did not give him the chance, however, as he swung his armored foot against his head and knocked him out cold.

Leaning against the stone wall, Dralt clutched his bleeding wrist and tried to recapture his breath. The man he'd faced had been a stubborn yet powerful warrior, but perhaps he'd learn something from his failure today. The knight could at least hope for that much.

In the meantime, he needed to press onward. Taking Alondite in his injured arm, he maneuvered it behind him so that he could drag it. He then lifted the fallen warrior onto his shoulders and began walking back to the wide clearing. Midway through this journey, Tairene came up behind him, hoping to make it past. Unfortunately, she was unable to move past him on the narrow path and Dralt's pace was slowed with the added weight of the samurai. It seemed that Roren would have no help in his battle.

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Though Roren's new armor offered him protection, its addition to his frame made him slower than he was used to being. He had to push himself harder to block the same strikes. Fortunately, when he wasn't fast enough and a portion of the crystal was hit its constant contact with Soul Calibur caused it to repair itself quickly.

The two fighters had switched roles over the course of the bout thus far. Razath had begun relying on his power until he lost his armor and was allowed a great deal more agility. Roren had used quick motions and actions until he learned about the crystals and received much more defense. When in these styles so unlike their usual form, the demon able to avoid damage and the young man able to absorb it, neither was able to gain an advantage.

They traded swing after swing to no avail. Each opening was quickly covered up before the other could exploit it. Every motion made was calculated to ensure they would not be the one to fall today. As this went on there seemed to be no end in sight.

Razath managed to tip the scales in his favor as he knocked the young warrior off balance with a push from his staff. While he tried to regain his footing the demon raised his armored boot and thrust it into Roren's chest.

The impact fractured some of the crystal and pushed it even harder against his wound. Though the armor repaired itself almost instantly, the pain lingered. Roren fell back and tried to get a safe distance until he could recapture his breath. While doing so he realized that his breathing was much more labored than that of the demon, who had been moving much more during the course of the fight. It would seem that his stamina could not compare to something not of this world. He would need to do something soon, before he could no longer keep up with his opponent.

Taking Soul Calibur in both hands, Roren held it parallel to the ground and began to charge the demon. He started off slow, but picked up speed as he gained momentum within his crystalline armor. Razath watched as the young warrior approached and decided that he would have no more. Widening his stance, the fiend positioned himself for a powerful swing to end the upstart once and for all.

When the distance between the two had almost disappeared, Roren leapt forward with a thrust of his blade while Soul Edge was swept through the air. The sound of shattering crystal echoed from the mountainside.

In the brief second after his scythe had completely torn through the crystal armor Razath thought himself victorious, but he quickly noticed something was wrong. As he watched the glass like shards fall, he saw no blood, no flesh, and no body. Even the weapons were missing. The only thing beside the crystal as it scattered across the ground was a thick smoke escaping from the air pockets. The demon did not fully comprehend what had happened until he felt something stab into his back.

Roren had teleported from within his armor to behind the hellspawn and taken his weapons with him. Taking Soul Calibur's version of a shuriken in his left hand, he stabbed it into the fiend's back just beneath the ribcage and continued to push it up. Razath arched his back in agony and tried to pull himself off, but every bit of squirming only made the holy weapon dig further in.

When he was unable to push the shuriken in any more, Roren spoke one final time to the demon. "All the lives lost because of you can now rest in peace." With that he released his hold on the weapon and kicked out the fiend's leg, forcing him to fall to his back and drive the holy weapon even deeper. The young warrior then took Soul Calibur in both hands and brought it down to cleave Razath's head from his body.

Roren took deep breaths as he watched the head roll through the dirt before coming to a stop. He had finally done what he set out to do; he had avenged his family and home. Letting his exhaustion take over, he collapsed onto his back and looked up at the blue sky with a smile as the demon's body and armor slowly began to turn to ash and scatter on the winds.

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_Author's Notes: There we have it... the end of the fight. There is no more fighting to be done, but there is still work to do. What will our heroes do now that they've done what they set out to do... those that are finished with their tasks. You know there's more story to come. Go ahead and leave a review before you continue on._


	12. Soul of Redemption

_Author's Notes: The end has come. No more blood need be spilled, but decisions need to be made about how our heroes will live out the rest of their lives. See how some choose to seek redemption._

_Disclaimer: Even though I'm not making any money off of this, I still feel obligated to mention that most of what you're reading about doesn't belong to me._

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Chapter 12: Soul of Redemption

Tairene walked through the village gate to see Roren lying on the ground beside a smoldering pile of ash. She rushed to his side only to find him awake with a contented smile on his face. Upon seeing her, he sat up and said, "I've done it. I've won."

Confused, Tai looked around. "Where? I see no monster here."

Roren rose to his feet and pointed to the ashen mound. "The demon that caused the destruction that now surrounds us and slaughtered everyone I once knew has been reduced to cinders, felled by my hand." Taking a deep breath, he tried to release some of the anger he'd built up within himself to prepare for this day.

Looking to what remained of the fiend and realizing what this must have meant to her companion, Tai asked a question without turning to him. "So what will you do now?"

"I don't really know. I've tried not to think about it. For seven years I devoted my life to killing this thing and told myself that anything after that didn't matter." Tears began to well in his eyes as he looked deep into the dying embers. "I knew that killing him could never bring my village back, but… that life I had before he came… it was all I ever wanted." He wiped his sleeve across his eyes before continuing. "I guess that such a simple life is impossible at this point. Whether it is or isn't, I'd like to avoid the world I came to know during my journeys and maybe see the better part of it. It would be nice to travel without a quest to serve."

Looking down at the sword he had dropped after delivering the final blow, he picked it up and turned to Tai. "But I guess that will have to wait. It's your turn to use Soul Calibur and, if you'll let me, I'd like to help you on that journey since you were kind enough to help me on mine."

Before Tairene could turn and accept the offer, she saw something on the other side of the ashes. It was Soul Edge, having returned to its natural form after the demise of its wielder. "I don't need it," she replied. "The end of my quest lies here." With those words she stepped forward and knelt beside the dark blade.

Roren watched as she ripped the talisman from her neck and placed it just above the living eye of the sword. "What are you doing?"

Shifting the magical artifact around as if looking for the right spot, Tai answered the question. "When you found out that I was looking for Soul Calibur you asked what made me different from anyone else who got involved in its war with Soul Edge. I said you made an assumption." The amulet now stopped and began to glow. "You assumed I wasn't different."

She pushed down on the gem with the palm of her hand while the light shined brightly beneath it and the sword's eye went wide with fear. Soon the eye dimmed and began to close. Eventually all the living tissue began to melt into the blade, which was starting to look like normal steel. When the process was finished Soul Edge looked like nothing more than an ordinary weapon.

Lifting the talisman off the sword, Tairene breathed a sigh of relief. Before she could move to complete her objective, however, a crack began to form in the gem. The split reached either side of the amulet, but refused to come apart.

Roren blinked incredulously before asking, "What did I just see?"

Tai now held the artifact as gingerly as possible. "I've spent most of my life trying to end the wars around me. When I heard about Soul Edge and Soul Calibur battling throughout the centuries and taking many innocent people to their graves, I had to do whatever I could to put a stop to it."

She took a breath before continuing. "This talisman was made to take power away and give it to something else. I had intended to take the magic from both these blades to ensure they did no more harm, but…" she looked to the crack in the gem. "These swords are much more powerful than I'd imagined. I don't want to risk breaking this and releasing all that energy into the air just so it can go into something else. Soul Calibur will have to remain."

Roren idly rubbed his jaw while he tried to take all this in. "In all honesty I think it's probably for the best. But now the question arises… what do we do with these things? I don't think we want to be carrying the sword that was once Soul Edge around and the dark magic you just removed from it is too dangerous to let fall into anyone's hands."

"I say we bury one and toss the other into the sea," came a deep voice from across the village. They turned to see Dralt standing in the village gate, apparently having been listening for the past minute or so. He began making his way towards them, talking as he went. "If Soul Edge was here then people will come looking for it. I think it best if they did not find it." Roren and Tai agreed and started to carry out the knight's plan.

After placing the once cursed sword as far beneath the ground as they dared to and covering it up, Dralt let out a deep sigh. His uncovered silver mane glistened in the remaining sunlight while he spoke again. "Now there's just one thing left for me to do here." Slowly he lifted his shimmering blade up and stuck it into the loose dirt. "If anyone comes here looking for a legendary weapon, now they'll find one. Good bye, my friends." With that, he turned around and began to walk back to the village gate, stripping off sections of his armor as he went.

Roren looked on in shock at the actions of his longest companion. "What are you doing? Where are you going to go?"

Dralt stopped halfway across the village, working on removing his broken gauntlet. When he finally got it off, he pointed at the blade he left behind. "That sword had kept me alive for far too long as it is, but now that it's taken me far enough to redeem myself for some of my sins, I can have no more of it. It's time I sought my redemption without the use of a blade… I'm through with fighting." After this he sighed a heavy breath and looked through the village gate and off into the distance. "I'm going to find some place where I can live out the end of my life in peace… if there's any out there for me." He spoke no more words as he continued his path out of the village.

Before the warrior in green could begin to chase after him, Tairene put a hand to his shoulder and shook her head. They could not change his decision, nor was it their place to. It was something he had to do on his own for the sake of his soul. A moment passed in silence between the two for the friend they would likely never see again after this day.

Roren broke the silence first. "So, I guess we know what we're going to do with your amulet, but what do we do about Soul Calibur," he asked, indicating the weapon in his hand. "Neither of us needs it anymore, but I don't think we should just leave it here."

Tai looked to the woods, seeming deep in thought. "I think I know what we can do with it."

The next day, Ivy Valentine awoke on the forest floor. The last thing she remembered was being thrown back by the ninja's fiery attack. Slowly rising to her feet she suddenly realized that she felt no pain from the fire. Looking down her form, she saw that, strangely, her body was completely free of burns, despite having been surrounded by flame in her last moment of consciousness. Unable to explain the phenomenon, she brushed herself off and thanked whatever lucky star had saved her from the painful scars.

Her next order of business was to find the weapon she had lost along with her waking mind. Hopefully the woman she'd fought had not disposed of it after the fight. She had worked far too hard to create it and even if its power was given by Soul Edge itself, she still treasured it as her most precious possession.

Ivy scanned the woodland area around her. When she spotted her sword lying on the ground her eyes went wide… for it was not alone. Sticking out of the ground beside her blade was the weapon she hoped would take away all the evils in her life: Soul Calibur.

Ivy slowly stepped forward until she was within arm's reach of the holy weapon. She could not explain why, but the people whom she'd seen on this path had left this for her to take. Offering a silent thanks, the usually cold woman allowed a single tear to form in her eye as she took hold of Soul Calibur and its blinding light consumed her body.

Meanwhile, Mitsurugi had just awakened. Quickly realizing where he was, he jumped to his feet and charged down the path. Turning through the village gate, he saw the mound with the blade used to defeat him sticking out of it. Walking closer, he thought it a grave at first. But as he got closer the shard of Soul Edge that he carried with him began to resonate, albeit very weakly. The sword he sought was within the earth beneath him.

Mitsurugi pushed the large weapon aside and began to dig frantically with his cupped hands. He might not have won in his battle with the knight, but he could still have a victory on this day. He could still have his legend. He could still have his pride if that sword would be his.

Reaching the bottom of the loosened dirt, the samurai finally came upon a hilt. A smile came upon his face as he wrapped his hands around and began to pull it out. That smile faded when he saw that the blade in his hands was nothing more than an ordinary steel sword with nothing remarkable about it whatsoever. Unsure of what was going on, Mitsurugi tossed the weapon aside and continued digging, thinking that someone may have tried to trick him. When he found nothing, his fists balled and his teeth clenched as a fury rose within him.

Drawing the katana from his waist, Mitsurugi stabbed it into the ground, trying to vent the rage of his lost opportunity. During this rampage he did not notice the strange mist beginning to descend around him. The cloud touched upon the discarded sword that had once made up its solid form. Realizing that the blade was now without power, it turned to the furious warrior nearby. By the time the samurai saw what was going on, he had already been completely surrounded by the mist.

It closed in and began to seep into his flesh. He let out an agonized yell as a massive force exploded from his body and raised up the dirt around him to obscure his form. As the dust started to clear, a pair of red eyes beamed through the cloud and a new voice rang out. "Hahahahahaha! The nightmare… will not… die!" The monster's laughter echoed off the mountain.

Roren and Tairene thought long and hard about where they would deposit the power of Soul Edge. They chose a point in the sea where none dared to venture.

Almost two years prior, rumors of a great treasure left by the dread pirate Cervantes de Leon began to circulate across Europe. Many ships filled to the brim with greedy souls charged off in search of the trove. For many months none of those ships returned. When one finally did it reported that there was no treasure. They only thing they found was a massive graveyard of ships. Though it appeared that whatever had killed all those people no longer remained, none were willing to return to that horrid place.

After acquiring a ship, the two warriors set a course for the oceanic crypt. With such a dark legend surrounding the area and a large number of broken ships twisting together it was unlikely that anyone could find something here. As soon as they reached the center of the wreckage, Tairene took hold of the cracked talisman and dropped it over the edge of the boat.

As the amulet fell deeper and deeper into the ocean it glowed with the power kept inside. That glow pushed through the murky depths to light up the darkness. Nearing the bottom, that light revealed a ship broken in half; the lettering on the side reading, "ADRIAN." On the deck was a body against the wall with the spike end of a large mace sticking out of his chest.

The talisman finally stopped in the purple-hued palm of the man and completely lit up his visage. White hair came from under his deep purple captain's hat to form a beard surrounding his face and mouth. His pure white eyes glowed as he looked to the gem within his hand and sensed the familiar energy within. Realizing what it was he held a wicked smile came onto his face while he smashed it against the weapons at his belt.

The two swords began to change as the immense power surged into them. Taking a weapon in each hand he used them to shatter the mace holding him to his ship. Free from his bonds, the dread pirate began to rise to the surface… ready to begin a new reign of terror.

**The End…?**

_Final Author's Note: Well, I don't know about any of you, but I like it. You may have noticed that I pretty well set up for a sequel here. I must, unfortunately, state that I have no intention of writing that story. I just don't have the passion for it. I'll leave it to anyone who wants to branch off from this story (send me a message first so we can clarify all the people who are dead and, thus, can't be used). If there is anything that confused you in this story like what made Xianghua lose faith in herself and what happened to get Cervantes stuck to his boat, then you should read the companion piece to this story, Lost Souls. Even so, leave a review and I'll explain anything that bothers you if I have an answer._

_Special Thanks: Speaking of reviews, I'd like to thank everyone who's left one so far. Firestrider, the first, which I really needed, Lord Genesis Shadow kinder than I am to my own work, Meshiloh, my first really good review (but then, I know where you live), AngelEyes87, good notes from another established author here, and Highwayman Myth, this guy stuck around which meant a lot._


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